Cfmrlie 


BY 

BURFORD    DELANNOY 

AUTHOR     OP 

"THE  MARGATE  MYSTERY" 

"j£l9,000,"   ETC.,   ETC. 


WITH  FRONTISPIECE 


R.   F.   FENNO  &   COMPANY 

18  EAST  SEVENTEENTH  STREET,  NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS 

CHAP;  PAGE 

I    HERO  AND  HEROINE  MEET        .        .  7 

II    THE  CHILD,  THE  WISE  MAN,  AND  THE 

LADY  ....,,  15 

III  SHE  DISCOVERS  THE  AUTHOR     .        .  24 

IV  THE  DANGER  SIGNAL         ,        .        .31 
V    PLAYING  WITH  FIRE  ....  40 

VI    A  STRANGE  REQUEST         ,        ,        .  48 

VII    READING  THE  HAND          ,        ,        .  59 

VIII    A  SOFT  GOOD-NIGHT          ,        ,        *  67 

IX    OVER  THE  GARDEN  WALL          .        .  76 

X    THE  LITTLE  WINGED  GOD          .        .  86 

XI    THE  VOICE  IN  THE  DARKNESS  .         .  94 

XII    MISUNDERSTANDINGS           .         .        .  100 

XIII  FEVERISH  SYMPTOMS          .        .        .  m 

XIV  To  BEG  FOR  MERCY  ....  123 
XV    ON  HER  KNEES  TO  HIM    ...  131 

XVI    GOD'S  LITTLE  BOY    ....  141 

XVII    THE  PASSING  OF  THE  NIGHT      .        .  150 

XVIII    THE  BREAKING  OF  THE  DAY      .        .  159 

XIX    PLAYING  THE  SPY     ....  167 

5 


2135235 


6  CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGB 

XX  A  HORRIBLE  REVELATION  .        .        .    176 

XXI  THE  ONLY  WAY        .        .        .        .184 

XXII    WHITE  LIES 192 

XXIII  LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST         .         .        .     204 

XXIV  RESTORED  SIGHT       ....     213 
XXV  EJECTED    FROM  THE  CABIN        .        .    223 

XXVI  As  SOBER  AS  A  JUDGE      .        .        .    230 

XXVII  THE  FINANCIAL  LOADSTONE  .  .  237 

XXVIII  HOMEWARD  BOUND  ....  244 

XXIX  ACHING  HEARTS  AND  LAUGHING  FACES  252 

XXX  As  FAITHFUL  AS  A  DOG  .  .  .  261 

XXXI  A  TEACUP  STORM  ....  269 

XXXII  RESUMPTION  OF  DICK'S  GOOD  TEMPER  277 

XXXIII  A  TANGLED  TRINITY         .        .        .287 

XXXIV  OITR  SEAT 298 

XXXV  CHRISTMAS  EVE         .        .        .        .308 

XXXVI  THE  CHRISTMAS  Box         .        .        .315 


PRINCE    CHARLIE 


CHAPTER  I 

HERO  AND   HEROINE   MEET 

THE  advent  of  its  regatta  is  usually  the 
herald  of  a  sea-side  season's  demise. 
Wivernsea,  as  yet,  is  not  sufficiently  developed 
to  justify  indulgence  in  a  water  festival.  So 
far,  its  carnival  flights  have  been  confined 
within  the  limits  of  flower  shows  and  the  treats 
of  its  Sunday  school. 

The  builder — his  surname  is  Jerry — is 
around  with  a  rule  though.  His  conspiracy 
with  the  man  who  plots  lands  and  dispenses 
free  luncheons  and  railway  tickets,will  possibly 
wreak  a  change  on  that  part  of  the  map's 
countenance.  Increased  population  may 
render  the  place  more  famous — or  infamous. 
So  very  much  depends  on  one's  viewpoint. 

The  houses  of  Wivernsea  are  built  in  its  bay. 
Stuck  in  round  the  fringe  of  it  like  teeth  in  a 
lower  jaw.  Picture  to  yourself  the  long  ago — 
the  bay's  origin — and  the  present  appearance 
of  the  place  may  come  before  you.  If  possible 


8  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

to  introduce  a  belief  that  there  were  giants  in 
the  earth  in  those  days  it  will  make  realization 
simpler.  Because  it  looks  as  if  a  mammoth 
had  snapped  at  the  coast  just  there  and  bitten 
out  a  huge  mouthful. 

If  your  imagination  is  sufficiently  elastic  to 
give  play  to  it,  conceive  houses  being  dropped 
into  the  marks  left  by  the  giant's  teeth— a  sort 
of  dental  stopping.  So  may  be  garnered  a  fair 
idea  of  the  presentment  of  this  particular 
indentation  in  the  land. 

When  the  goose  of  Michaelmas  is  shaking  in 
its  scales,  Wivernsea  lodging  letters  encroach 
on  the  farmer's  privilege.  The  closing  time  of 
their  harvest  is  near  enough  to  be  grumbled  at. 
It  is  painful  knowledge  to  them  that  visitors 
scuttle  away  as  September  ends.  The  exodus 
is  due  to  some  absurd  belief  that  the  weather 
then — like  a  school  at  the  advent  of  the  holi- 
days— breaks  up. 

In  the  ears  of  one  man — William  Masters  by 
name,  binder-together-of-sensational-incidents 
in-book-form  by  profession — such  grumbles 
tingled  pleasantly.  Because  the  usual  October 
Wivernsea  weather  is  mild  and  bright  and 
rainless.  Being  a  non-gregarious  man,  the 
place  shaped  before  his  eyes  as  a  land  flowing 
with  milk  and  honey.  He  knew  it  to  be  good 
then. 

Knowledge  is  the  wing  on  which  we  fly  to 


HERO   AND   HEROINE   MEET  g 

heaven.  In  this  instance,  the  author's  flight 
from  London  was  via  the  London  and  South 
Western  Railway  Company's  terminus.  Later 
on  he  told  himself  that  it  was  proving — 
veritably — his  Waterloo. 

Wivernsea's  sea  wall  is  known  locally  as  the 
Esplanade.  Euphemisms — sacrifices  to  vanity 
at  the  expense  of  truth — are  not  uncommon 
objects  of  the  seashore.  The  walk  terminated 
eastwards  with  the  abruptness  of  a  cinemato- 
graph view.  A  private  owner  claimed  the 
land  there. 

It  was  not  an  undisputed  claim.  Opposition 
made  the  owner  handle  the  matter  with  mailed 
fist.  To  make  his  position  stronger  he  erected 
a  high  wall.  If  it  did  not  prevent  his  oppo- 
nents going  further  with  their  labial  opposition, 
it  effectually  prevented  them  from  going 
further  along  the  parade. 

The  embellishments  of  the  wall  were,  appar- 
ently, the  outcome  of  deep  thought.  Its  top 
was  artistically  embroidered  with  spikes  and 
broken  bottles.  This  sharply  jagged  crown 
was  known  locally  as  a  shivery-freeze.  Give 
the  average  man  an  opportunity  to  mispro- 
nounce a  word  and  his  success  may  be  counted 
on  every  time. 

Warnings  to  trespassers  and  threats  of  pro- 
secution garnished  the  wall's  face  with  the 
liberality  of  almonds  in  a  piece  of  French  rock. 


io  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

The  everyday  man  might  well  be  excused  a 
fear  that  there  was  danger  in  letting  an  un- 
guarded eye  rest  on  it. 

Amongst  others,  the  wall  barred  the  easterly 
progress  of  William  Masters.  In  his  instance 
no  chagrin  resulted.  It  was  a  boast  of  his  that 
he  possessed  views  of  his  own :  the  things 
which  other  people  smile  at  unpleasantly  and 
label  eccentricities.  The  owner  of  the  wall 
was  a  man  after  his  own  heart.  Undoubtedly 
a  fellow-feeling  makes  us  wondrous  kind. 

It  is  not  good  that  man  should  be  alone.  But 
the  author  had  not  yet  realized  the  greatness  of 
that  truth.  He  had  been  heard  to  voice  the 
nature  of  his  Ultima  Thule :  undisturbed 
existence  in  a  cot.  Not  beside  the  hill, 
but  in  the  centre  of  a  big  field.  The  situation 
to  be  enhanced  by  possession  of  a  shot  gun, 
wherewith  to  pepper  trespassers  on  his 
solitude. 

Strangers  who  heard  Masters  speak  so,  felt 
inclination  to  move  away  a  pace ;  were 
prompted  to  thoughts  of  Hanwell  and  Colney 
Hatch.  His  friends — another  boast  of  his  was 
the  poverty  of  their  number — smiled.  The 
idea  of  Masters  hurting  a  fly  appealed  to  the 
humour  in  them. 

But,  as  the  blackest  hat  may  have  a  silver- 
paper  lining,  so  the  wall  served  a  good  purpose. 
It  acted  as  a  shelter  from  the  one  thing  which 


HERO   AND   HEROINE   MEET         n 

disturbed  the  enjoyment  of  October  in 
Wivernsea  :  that  wind  which  is  said  to  be  good 
for  neither  man  nor  beast.  Thoughtful  hands 
had  placed  a  comfortable  seat  within  the  wall's 
shelter. 

Knowledge  of  these  things  had  inspired 
Masters'  journey  to  Wivernsea.  Where  he 
had  stayed  before  the  landlady  had  rooms 
vacant.  She  knew  his  requirements  and, 
hitherto,  had  suited  him  admirably.  Had  even 
acquired  the  knowledge  that  his  visits  to 
Wivernsea  were  not  prompted  solely  by  a 
desire  to  hear  her  talk  ! 

Having  done  justice  to  a  hastily  prepared 
luncheon,  Masters  slipped  a  note  book  into  his 
pocket  and  sallied  forth.  His  route  was 
easterly,  its  termination  his  favourite  seat  at 
the  end  of  the  Parade.  There  were  some  hours 
left  of  warmth  and  sunshine  :  the  author's 
intent  was  to  avail  himself  of  them. 

Seated,  he  for  a  time  succumbed  to  the 
charm  of  the  water  as  it  stole  out  and  away. 
Listened  to  its  lapping  as  it  broadened  the 
ribbon  of  sand  at  each  receding  wave.  Then, 
turning  a  deaf  ear  to  the  charm  and  his  eyes  on 
to  his  note  book,  he  buried  himself  in  the 
particular  chapter  on  which  he  was  engaged. 

The  writer's  concentration  was  not  of  the 
plumbless  kind .  Sound  of  a  girl' s  voice  roused 
him  from  his  depth  of  thought.  It  should  not 


12  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

be  gathered  from  that  that  the  sex  had  any 
extraordinary  influence  over  him — save  when 
it  was  very  young. 

He  loved  children.     Loved  them  best  before 
the  rubbing  off  of  what  is  called  their  corners  : 
the  sweetness  of  what  is  actually  the  innocence  - 
we  all  come  into  the  world  with — which  it 
seems  the  business  of  the  world  to  destroy. 

Masters  guessed  from  the  voice  that  it  be- 
longed to  a  very  little  girl.  Looking  up,  saw 
standing  in  front  of  him  proof  of  the  correct- 
ness of  his  guess.  A  blue-eyed — wide-open- 
eyed-with-astonishment  too  at  seeing  him 
there — little  maid.  She  had  turned  the  parade 
corner,  and  in  doing  so  came  on  him  unex- 
pectedly. It  was  plain  that  she  had  pulled  up 
suddenly  at  seeing  him  there.  Just  as  sud- 
denly called  out  in  her  clear,  childish  treble  : 

"  Oh  !  There's  someone  on  your  seat,  Miss 
Mi  wins !  " 

The  young  lady  so  addressed  came  into  view 
at  that  moment,  round  the  bushes  planted  at 
the  corner — the  little  one  having,  as  usual, , 
run  on  ahead. 

Miss  Mi  wins  flushed  a  little.     Becomingly,  - 
for  otherwise  the  face  might  have  been  con- 
sidered a  trifle  too  pale.    The  possibility  of 
the  child's  speech  being  considered  rude  in- 
duced her  to  say  in  an  undertone : 

"  Hush,  Gracie,  dear  !  " 


HERO   AND   HEROINE   MEET          13 

The  speech  reached  Masters'  ears.  He  was 
at  once  struck  with  the  governess's  singularly 
sweet  voice.  When  he  looked  at  the  place 
whence  the  voice  issued,  he  thought  it  the 
prettiest  mouth  he  had  ever  set  eyes  on.  The 
little  droop  of  sadness  at  its  corners  mellowed 
rather  than  took  away  from  the  sweetness  of 
it. 

The  lips — ripe  red  in  colour,  Cupid's  bowed 
in  shape — enchanting  as  they  were,  did  not 
hold  his  attention  in  iron  bonds.  His  glance 
wandered  to  her  eyes  and  hair.  From  that 
inspection  was  formed  an  opinion — one  which 
he  never  changed. 

The  features  were  the  most  beautiful  and 
womanly  ones  he  had  ever  seen.  Just  as  sweet 
a  face  as  a  woman  with  golden  hair — that 
peculiar  tint  of  gold  which  the  sun  ever  seems 
anxious  to  search  amongst — and  forget-me-not 
eyes,  can  possess  at  the  age  of  three-and 
twenty.  She  was  good  to  look  upon. 

Observation  was  a  trick  of  Masters'  trade. 
The  practice  of  it  enabled  him  to  paint  a  picture 
in  a  paragraph.  What  he  saw  in  one  glimpse 
of  Miss  Mivvins'  face  was  eloquence  itself. 
But  of  that  gentle,  outward-going  radiance  in 
her  eyes  the  merest  layman  would  have  been 
sentient.  It  was  the  kind  of  which  one  felt 
even  a  blind  man  must  be  conscious. 

Details  appealed  to  Masters  just  then.     He 


I4  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

happened  to  be  engaged  at  the  moment  on  the 
description  of  a  heroine.  When  he  saw  Miss 
Miwins  his  difficulty  about  shaping  the  book- 
woman  vanished.  In  flesh  and  blood  she  stood 
before  him.  Ah1  he  needed  was  to  describe 
what  he  saw  :  she  would  fit  in  all  respects. 

Save  her  name.     He  was  not  particularly 
struck  with  that. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  CHILD,  THE  WISE  MAN,  AND  THE  LADY 

PROVERBIALLY  women  love  men's 
approbation.  Something  of  the  feeling 
within  him  must  have  evidenced  itself  in 
Masters'  eyes.  His  attentive  scrutiny — despite 
all  there  was  of  respect  in  it — did  not,  appar- 
ently, please  Miss  Miwins.  Possibly,  she  was 
inclined  to  consider  his  admiration  rudeness. 
\nyway  she  called : 

"  Come,   Gracie  !  ' 

Taking  the  child's  little  hand  in  her  own 
neatly  gloved  one  as  she  spoke,  the  woman 
turned,  evidently  intent  on  walking  back 
in  the  direction  whence  she  had  come. 

That  brought  Masters  to  his  feet  in  a 
moment — cap  in  hand,  and  apology  in 
mouth.  Full  of  crudities  as  was  his  charac- 
ter, he  possessed  an  instinctive  courtesy. 
In  all  the  arraignments  for  his  breaches 
of  Society's  unwritten  laws,  impoliteness 
had  never  figured.  He  spoke ;  said  : 


16  PRINCE  CHARLIE 

"  Pray  do  not  let  me  drive  you  away ! 
Possession  may  be  nine  points  of  the  law, 
but  we  may  consider  ourselves  beyond  the 
pale  of  its  practice  here.  If,  as  I  hear— 
from  lips  the  truth  of  which  it  would  be 
absurd  to  doubt — that  this  is  considered 
your  seat,"  his  smile  was  not  an  un- 
pleasing  one,  '  I  should  never  forgive 
myself  if  trespass  of  mine  interfered  with 
the  owner's  use  of  it." 

"  Is  that  pen  you  are  using,"  inquired 
Grade  suddenly,  a  propos  of  nothing,  "  one 
of  those  you  put  the  ink  in  at  the  wrong 
end,  and  trickle  it  out  of  the  other  ?  " 

A  softness  blended  with  the  smile  on 
Masters'  face  and  merged  into  that  kindly 
expression  of  the  strong  for  the  weak.  It 
was  the  successful  catching  of  just  such 
tenderness  which  made  Landseer's  name 
figure  so  prominently  in  the  world  of  Art. 
As  the  author  looked  down  at  the  mite  from 
his  six-feet  altitude,  the  look  on  his  face 
was  an  irresistible  reminder  of  a  St.  Ber- 
nard's kindness  to  a  toy  terrier. 

"  You  have  accurately  described  it,  little 
woman,"  he  answered.  "  But  it  does  not 
always  trickle  when  you  want  it  to — though 
it  generally  does  when  you  don't." 

The  child  looked  mystified ;  evidently 
deemed  further  explanation  necessary.  Miss 


CHILD,    WISE   MAN,   LADY  17 

Miwins  was  still  standing,  waiting  to  go. 
Masters  hesitated  ;  looked  from  one  to  the 
other.  Politeness  made  him  say  : 

"  I  am  leaving — pray  be  seated." 

But  the  woman  saw  through  that.  Would 
have  been  very  high  up  the  fool  grade  indeed 
had  she  failed  to  do  so.  It  really  was  quite 
too  transparent  an  artifice.  When  truth  is 
sacrificed  on  the  altar  of  politeness  the  cere- 
mony needs  skill,  otherwise  the  lie  becomes 
even  more  offensive  than  the  act  it  was  to 
cover. 

His  little  speech  induced  her  to  take  a  step 
forward  ;  made  her  say  : 

"  Oh,  no !  Do  not  let  me  dnve  you 
away  !  " 

She  spoke  impulsively  ;  hurriedly.  Masters 
thought  with  everything  in  the  tone  that  was 
desirable  in  a  woman's  voice.  He  smiled  as 
he  expostulated  : 

"  But  you  remember,  surely — it  is  not  many 
moments  ago — you  were  quite  willing  to  allow 
me  to  drive  you  away." 

Then  she  smiled  too.  Smiles  which  brought 
into  play  mouth  and  eyes  and  the  dimples  in 
her  cheeks.  From  his  own  face  the  gravity — 
some  people  called  it  Austerity — had  already 
departed.  There  was  a  peculiarly  softening 
influence  about  Miss  Miwins.  Perhaps  his 
own  relaxing  was  the  result  of  that. 

B 


i8  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  It  is  a  long  seat." 

He  indicated  its  measurement  with  a  sweep 
of  his  hand  as  he  spoke  ;  continued : 

"  Let  its  length  be  our  way  out  of  the  diffi- 
culty— it  is  a  long  lane  that  has  no  turning. 
How  will  it  be  if  we  make  it  large  enough  for 
both  ?  " 

It  was  a  tentative  sort  of  invitation.  An 
invisible  olive  branch  to  which  her  hand  went 
out.  Again  she  smiled.  A  moment's  hesita- 
tion .  .  .  then  seated  herself. 

From  the  bag  depending  by  silken  cords 
from  her  wrist  she  drew  a  book.  .Having 
given  the  little  girl  sundry  directions  as  to  the 
assumption  of  preternatural  virtue,  the  woman 
commenced  to  read. 

Masters  resumed  his  place  at  the  other  end 
of  the  seat.  Had  book  in  hand  too :  manuscript 
book.  He  had  come  out  with  intent  to  write; 
told  himself  that  fulfilment  was  necessary. 
But  he  had  Gracie  to  reckon  with. 

The  sharp  eyes  of  that  four-year-old  little 
maid  were  furtively  fixed  on  the  magic  pen. 
She  was  trying  hard  to  fulfil  the  injunction : 
,Be  good — from  the  adult  standpoint.  But 
gradually  the  admonition  was  fading  from  her 
mind — she  was  very  human. 

After  a  while — a  courage-summoning 
period — the  little  hands  were  laced  behind  her, 
and  boldly  facing  the  owner  of  the  attraction, 


CHILD,    WISE   MAN,    LADY  19 

the  little  one  addressed  him,  in  a  kind  of  I  Dare 
You  voice : 

"  I  could  write  with  a  pen  like  that !  " 

For  a  second  time  the  child's  voice  brought 
the  man's  attention  away  from  his  work. 

"Could  you?" 

He  smiled  as  he  spoke.  Looked  up  from  his 
book  as  he  did  so.  Then,  infusing  a  note  of 
doubt  in  his  voice,  enquired : 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Y— yes.     Quite  !  " 

Then,  as  an  afterthought,  possibly  by  way  of 
redemption  of  the  hesitation,  the  child  con- 
tinued : 

"I  could  if  I  had  one!" 

-  Finding  her  first  venture  had  not  roused  the 
lion,  but  fearing  him  a  little  still,  she  went  on 
defiantly : 

"  I  saw  a  man  fill  one  once  !  " 

Such  a  statement  as  that  surely  could  not 
fail  to  crush  a  mere  user  of  the  pen  !  Seeing 
that  astonishment  was  expected  of  him, 
Masters  assumed  an  appropriate  look  of  sur- 
prise. His  wearing  of  it  pleased  her  mightily. 

"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  "  you  would  like  to 
make  quite  sure  you  could  write  with  one,  eh  ? 
Would  you  like  to  try  with  this  ?  " 

The  blue  eyes  brightened ;  she  was  at  his 
side  in  a  moment.  Shyness  is  readily  over- 
come when  our  summers  have  not  numbered 


20  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

five.    Trustfulness  at  that  age  has  rarely  been 
shocked. 

Therein,  perhaps,  lay  the  secret  of  the  attrac- 
tion children  had  for  Masters:  the  sweetness 
of  their  suspicionless  existence.  Viewed  from 
the  standpoint  of  the  after  life,  when — if  we 
act  up  to  the  axioms  of  the  world  we  live  in — 
we  trust  no  man,  it  is  apt  to  brush  across  us 
as  refreshingly  as  a  gust  of  country  air. 

Turning  the  leaves  of  his  book  till  he  came 
to  a  blank  page,  Masters  twisted  and  rested 
the  cover  on  his  knee.  So  the  open  leaf  was 
level  with  the  intending — eyes-sparkling-with- 
excitement — writer.  Then  he  gave  the  child 
his  pen. 

She  drew  a  capital  G — a  bright  little  point  of 
tongue  protruding  the  while.  The  head,  too, 
seemed  to  follow  the  movements  of  the  hand. 
Her  intent  was  plain :  to  write  her  own  name. 

That  was  compassed.     It  took  a  little  time — 
entailed  a  huge  expenditure  of  concentrated 
energy — but  she  got  through  with  it  at  last. 
There  figured  on  the  paper  the  words : 
Grade  Seton-Carr. 

The  child's  glance  came  off  the  page  ;  she 
moved  away  a  pace.  Looked  up  into  his  eyes, 
her  own  flashing  like  diamonds.  Such  little 
things  please — in  that  time  of  happiness  when 
we  are  little  ourselves.  After  drawing  a  long 
breath  she  ejaculated  triumphantly: 


CHILD,   WISE    MAN,   LADY  21 

"  There  !  " 

Once  more  Masters  gladdened  the  little 
one,  by  acting  as  he  was  expected  to  act. 
No  man  on  that  coast  could  have  worn  a 
larger-sized  look  of  astonishment.  He 
cried  : 

"  Won— der— ml !  " 

A  clapping  of  hands  in  her  glee,  and  the 
child  danced  merrily  along  to  the  other  end  of 
the  seat. 

"I've  written  my  name  with  one  of  those 
funny  squirter  pens,  Miss  Miwins  !  What  do 
you  think  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  have  a  funny  way  of  keeping 
your  word,  Gracie.  You  professed  anxiety 
to  finish  your  castle  on  the  sands,  yet  you  are 
spending  your  time  on  the  wall !  " 

"  Oh-h-h  !  " — prolonged  and  drawn  out — 
"  I  had  forgotten  all  about  it !  " 

Attention  diverted  from  the  pen,  the  child 
ran  down  the  steps  on  to  the  beach.  A  few 
minutes  after,  Masters,  looking  up,  saw  her 
busily  at  work  with  a  spade  and  pail.  The 
implements  had  evidently  been  left  there  in  the 
morning. 

That  rather  proved  the  excellence  of  the 
estimate  the  author  had  made  of  Wivernsea 
out  of  the  season.  Castle  builders  could  leave 
their  tools  uncared  for  and  find  them  when 
they  returned.  Not  because  of  a  superabund- 


22  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

ance  of  honesty  around ;  rather  because  of 
the  lack  of  thieves. 

The  castle  creator  continued  her  work  ;  the 
pail-shaped  battlements  increased  in  number. 
She  handled  bucket  and  spade  with  the  same 
earnestness,  eagerness  and  engrossment  with 
which  she  had  fingered  the  pen. 

Those  were  methods  which  appealed  to  the 
story-creator.  But  just  now  he  was  not  work- 
ing with  his  own  accustomed  engrossment, 
eagerness  and  earnestness.  A  disturbing 
element  had  crept  in. 

From  time  to  time  he  glanced  towards  the 
other  end  of  the  seat.  There  the  disturbing 
element  lay:  or  rather  sat.  It  seemed  that 
there  was  something  magnetic  about  that  pre- 
sence there.  He  experienced  a  difficulty  in 
keeping  his  eyes  away.  Noting  the  neatness 
of  the  dress  worn  by  the  woman,  he  could  not 
fail  to  note  too  its  sombre  hue:  mourning 
evidently.  His  lively  imagination  was  busily 
at  work  in  a  moment. 

For  him  to  weave  a  complete  story  with 
such  material,  was  an  easy  task.  A  pretty 
girl  occupied  the  stellar  part  in  it.  He  por- 
trayed her  as  a  motherless  one  forced  to  face 
a  hard,  cold  world.  Depicted  her  seeking  a 
living  in  it  as  a  governess. 

That  imagination  of  his  had  a  habit  of  run- 
ning away  with  him.  Perhaps  that  was  a 


CHILD,    WISE   MAN,    LADY  23 

reason  why  his  fiction  had  so  good  a  run.  His 
books  were  mostly  all  of  the  many-editioned 
kind.  So,  neglecting  his  own  story  for  fiction 
of  another  kind,  the  time  came  of  the  going 
down  of  the  sun.  The  tint  of  the  vasty-deep 
changed:  the  sea  grew  greyer.  His  heroine- 
presumptive  closed  her  book  and  rose  ;  cried : 

"  Gracie  !  " 

Seeing  that  the  child's  attention  had  been 
attracted,  she  turned,  and  bowing  slightly, 
smilingly  wished  Masters : 

"  Good-day  !  " 

From  the  sands,  the  little  girl  waved  a  vigor- 
ous cumbered-with-bucket-and-spade  good-bye 
to  him.  She  evidently  preferred  jumping  the 
breakwaters  on  the  way  home  to  the  more  easy 
path  of  the  sea  wall.  The  two  passed  altogether 
from  the  author's  sight.  Not  altogether  from 
his  mind. 

Good-day  !  Yes,  he  felt  it  had  been — dis- 
tinctly good.  Till  he  looked  at  clean  pages, 
where  writing  should  have  been.  Even  then, 
despite  the  unfinished  chapter,  he  made  no 
alteration  in  his  verdict. 

It  had  been  a  good  day. 


CHAPTER  III 

SHE   DISCOVERS  THE  AUTHOR 

FOR  nearly  a  week — before  and  after  noon 
—they  met.  It  was  a  sheltered  spot 
Miss  Mi  wins  walked  out  to  each  day.  She 
had  selected  it  on  account  of  its  freedom  from 
cold  winds  :  there  was  a  seat  on  which  to  sit 
and  read.  At  the  same  time  a  watchful  eye 
could  be  kept  on  her  playing-on-the-sands 
charge. 

Masters  had  always  used  it.  Neither  now 
gave  it  up  because  of  the  other.  Each  would 
have  scornfully  repudiated  a  suggestion  that 
the  regular  seeking  of  it  arose  from  any  other 
reason.  For  instance,  that  it  could  be  as- 
cribed to  the  other's  presence. 

But  would  the  repudiation  have  been 
honestly  grounded  ?  Cupid  alone  knows. 
The  love-god  is  a  deity  enshrined  in  mystety. 
He  never  reveals  the  secrets  of  the  wonders 
he  performs.  Were  it  possible  to  see  the 
hand  which  lets  loose  the  arrow,  probably 
there  would  be  many  a  stepping  aside  to  avoid 


SHE   DISCOVERS    THE   AUTHOR       25 

it.  The  sudden  striking  of  the  dart  makes  it 
so  deadly — wounds  to  the  heart. 

Grade  and  the  author  became  fast  friends. 
She  was  a  winsome  little  soul,  and  children 
have  their  own  methods  of  creating  friend- 
ships. Masters  met  her  advances  more  than 
half-way  :  was  as  fond  of  children  as  he  was 
of  flowers. 

His  friends — the  nice  friends  who  feel 
privileged  to  say  nasty  things — by  reason  of 
that  fondness,  professed  to  see  in  it  a  chance 
of  his  redemption.  They  admitted  a  possi- 
bility of  his  becoming  humanized  some  day  : 
said  there  was  at  least  hope  for  him. 

Beyond  a  Good  Morning,  and  occasionally 
a  remark  on  one  of  the  tenses  of  the  weather 
— past,  present  or  future — the  meetings  were 
bare  of  conversation,  so  far  as  the  adults  were 
concerned. 

Masters  would  have  been  more  than  glad  to 
talk.  Perhaps  natural  nervousness  prevented 
his  setting  the  conversational  ball  rolling. 
For  he  admired  his  companion  of  the  seat 
with  a  fervent  admiration — unable  to  label 
the  feeling,  as  yet,  by  any  other  name. 

Her  presence  did  not  disturb  him  now  in  his 
seclusion.  She  seemed  to  be  in  keeping  with 
his  thoughts.  His  thoughts  of  her  har- 
monized with  the  surroundings — she  belonged 
to  them. 


26  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

A  vague  sort  of  wonder  took  possession  of 

him  ;  how  it  was  that  he  had  never  missed  her 

—never  known  what  was  lacking.     The  more 

he  saw  of  her,  the  more  deep  his  admiration 

grew. 

Admiration  is  the  kind  of  thing  which 
develops  rapidly,  once  it  germinates.  In 
this  instance  the  seed  had  thrown  deep  roots. 
Masters'  heart  seemed  likely  to  prove  fruitful 
soil. 

With  Gracie  he  stood  well.  That,  he  felt, 
was  a  making  of  headway  ;  for  the  governess 
unquestionably  loved  her  charge.  On  the 
principle  of  love  me,  love  my  dog,  he  was  act- 
ing wisely — apart  from  the  pleasure  it  gave 
him — in  this  cultivation  of  the  little  one's 
affection. 

When  the  child  discovered  his  ability  to 
manufacture  stories  she  instantly — the  exact- 
ing nature  of  her  sex  in  its  dealings  with  man 
manifested  itself  even  at  that  early  age — • 
demanded  to  be  told  one. 

That  was  the  introduction  of  the  wedge's 
thin  end  :  brought  about  a  little  change  in  the 
current  of  the  elders'  conversation.  The  lady 
in  black  came  out  of  the  ice-bound  silence — 
fringed  by  a  frigid  Good  Morning  and  Good 
Afternoon  ;  saying  : 

"  You  must  not  let  Gracie  worry  you." 

The  lashes  went  up  as  she  spoke  and  he  got 


SHE   DISCOVERS    THE   AUTHOR       27 

a  good  view  of  those  lovely  eyes  of  hers. 
They  held  him  spellbound.  The  evident  ad- 
miration in  his  glance  caused  the  lashes  to  fall, 
and  he,  released  from  the  momentary  thral- 
dom, exclaimed  : 

"  Worry  !     How  could  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  perfect  little  glutton  for  stories. 
Once  you  indulge  her,  she  will  do  her  best  to 
make  your  life  unbearable  with  her  clamour 
for  more.  With  food  of  that  sort  within  reach 
she  is  a  regular  Oliver  Twist." 

A  gratified  little  laugh — he  thought  he  saw 
the  door  to  Friendship  opening  a  little  wider 
— accompanied  his  answer  : 

"  Oh,  story-telling  is  in  my  particular  line ! 
I  am  full  of  fiction  to  the  brim  !  " 

She  reciprocated  his  laugh,  and  as  she  picked 
up,  to  resume,  her  book,  said  : 

"  Well,  I  have  warned  you  !  The  conse- 
quences be  on  your  own  head." 

"  I  am  moved  to  disregard  your  warning ! 
Gracie  is  so  excellent  a  listener.  That  is  so 
flattering,  you  know."  Then  turning  to  the 
child,  he  continued  :  "  Now,  run  on  to  the 
sands  and  finish  your  castle,  little  woman, 
before  the  tide  reaches  it.  When  it  can  no 
longer  withstand  Old  Ocean's  assaults  and  is 
washed  away,  come  back.  Then  I  will  tell 
you  what  became  of  Jack  after  the  fairy  had 
rescued  him  from  the  three-headed  giant." 


28  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

The  child  was  sitting  on  his  knee  with  her 
arms  round  his  neck.  Between  the  kisses  she 
was  giving  him,  said  : 

'  You  dear  old  thing  !  You  are  the  very 
nicest,  delightfullest,  beautifullest  story-teller 
I  ever  met." 

"  I  am  dethroned  then  ?  "  The  observa- 
tion from  Miss  Mi  wins.  "  I  used  to  be  told 
that." 

'  Y-y-yes.  But  you  never  told  me  tales 
like  Prince  Charlie's." 

Prince  Charlie  was  a  character  in  one  of  the 
stories  Masters  had  told  the  child.  A  prince 
who  had  rescued  innumerable  princesses  from 
giants,  ogres  and  demons.  Instantly  it  had 
pleased  the  listener  to  christen  the  narrator 
after  the  hero. 

All  her  people,  she  informed  him  gravely, 
she  christened  out  of  stories.  It  was  much 
nicer  than  calling  them  by  their  real  names. 
They  were  so  much  prettier  and  lots  easier  to 
remember — didn't  he  think  so  ? 

Yes,  he  had  made  answer.  He  quite 
thought  that  Prince  Charlie  was  an  improve- 
ment on  his  own  name.  But  Gracie  betrayed 
no  anxiety  to  know  what  that  was.  To  her 
henceforth  he  was  Prince  Charlie.  That  was 
quite  sufficient — she  was  a  godmother  of  the 
most  self-satisfied  type. 

Turning  to  Miss  Mivvins  the  child  continued, 


SHE   DISCOVERS    THE   AUTHOR       29 

with  a  trace  of  reproach  in  her  voice — she  felt 
she  had  been  defrauded  : 

"  Besides,  your  giants  never  had  three 
heads !  " 

A  trinity  of  that  description — unity  is 
*  strength — appeared  an  unanswerable  argu- 
ment ;  seemed  to  her  to  clinch  the  matter. 
She  climbed  down  from  Masters'  knee,  and 
jumped  her  way  down  the  steps  to  the  sands, 
with  bucket  and  spade  rattling  in  her  little 
hand. 

As  she  disappeared,  Masters  took  his  courage 
in  both  hands  ;  a  trifle  nervously  continued 
the  conversation : 

"  I  shall  have  to  prescribe  a  course  of 
Grimm's  Fairy  Tales,  if  you  wish  to  resume 
your  position  as  story-teller-in-chief." 

His  speech  was  at  random.  The  ice  was 
broken ;  they  had  spoken  ;  he  did  not  want 
the  coldness  of  silence  to  freeze  it  all  over 
again.  Having  got  in  the  thin  edge  of  the 
wedge  he  proposed  to  drive  it  right  home — if 
possible.  Hence  his  speech. 

Miss  Mi  wins  laughed.  The  child  liked  him 
— so  did  she.  Fearful  of  driving  her  away,  he 
had  not  attempted  to  force  conversation. 
She  had  curled  up  a  trifle  because  of  his  reserve 
— hence  they  had  spoken  but  little.  Unknown 
to  themselves  their  communication  had  been 
more  subtle  than  that  of  words,  perhaps  had 


30  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

paved  the  way  for  them.  They  came  easily 
enough  now. 

"  You  also,"  he  said,  "  seem  to  have  a  taste 
for  fiction  of  a  pronounced  type.  I  see  you 
are  reading  one  of  my  books." 

"  Your  books  ?  "  Her  query  was  uttered 
in  a  tone  of  surprise.  "  Oh,  no  !  This  came 
down  from  Mudie's  with  other  volumes 
yesterday." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  doubt  that." 

He  laughed  openly  at  her  concern — a  hearty, 
resounding  laugh,  a  trifle  loud,  but  with  a 
pleasant  honest  ring  in  it ;  continued : 

"  I  don't  doubt  that  the  library  people 
acquired  it  honestly.  My  claim  was  not  made 
in  a  possessory  sense.  I  meant  that  my  name 
figures  on  the  title  page." 

She  looked  at  him  blankly  for  a  moment, 
so  great  was  her  surprise.  Then,  the  truth 
dawning  on  her,  she  said: 

"  You  !     You — are  the  author  ?  " 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   DANGER   SIGNAL 

THAT  she  should  meet  a  real  live  author, 
the  writer  of  the  book  she  was  reading, 
was  a  coincidence  strange  enough  to  take 
Miss  Mivvins'  breath  away.  Masters  saw 
her  wonderment,  smiled  at  it. 

"  Is  the  fact,"  he  asked,  "  so  difficult  a 
thing  to  reconcile  with  my  appearance  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  no !  How  awfully  rude  you 
must  think  me  !  I  meant — I  mean — that  I 
expected  the  author  of  this  book  to  be " 

Then  she  paused.  Did  not  quite  know 
what  she  expected  or  how  to  express  herself  ; 
added  lamely : 

"  To  be  much  older." 

"  Really  !  I  am  sorry  I  don't  come  up  to 
your  age  standard.  Age  has  its  privileges, 
but  wisdom  is  not  always  its  perquisite.  Why 
should  an  author  be  necessarily  old  ?  Surely 
youth  is  pardonable  ?  " 

She — a  woman  famous  in  her  own  par- 


32  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

ticular  circle  for  the  coolness  of  her  tongue — 
could  have  kicked  herself.  Was  saying,  in 
her  unwonted  nervousness,  all  the  things  she 
would  rather  have  left  unsaid.  Angry  with 
herself,  she  blurted  out: 

"There  is  not,  of  course, any  earthly  reason 
why.  It  was  purely  my  utter  stupidity." 

He  smiled  at  the  flush  on  her  cheek  ;  a  smile 
conjured  up  by  his  admiration  of  it;  said 
merrily : 

"  Here  have  I  been  peacocking  around, 
with  a  sort  of  metaphorical  feather  in  my  cap. 
Pampering  my  vanity,  applying  the  flattering 
unction  to  my  soul — rubbing  it  in  several 
times  per  diem — that  no  author  of  my  age 
has  turned  out  so  many  volumes.  Lo  !  with 
one  breath  you  blow  that  feather  clean  away." 

She  could  not  resist  laughing  at  his  mock 
despair.  Became  at  her  ease  once  more ; 
said: 

"  Indeed  not !  I  don't  know  what  prompted 
me  to  say  what  I  did.  As  to  this  book— 

"  No  !  Don't !  Please  don't  give  me  your 
opinion  of  it !  " 

His  interruption  was  a  continuance  of  his 
burlesque  melodramatic  style.  She  did  not 
quite  know  how  to  take  him ;  said  : 

"  You  mean  you  would  not  value  my 
opinion  ?  " 

That  was  disconcerting.     Sobered  him  in  a 


THE  DANGER   SIGNAL  33 

minute.  He  knew  quite  well  the  kind  of 
value  he  would  be  likely  to  put  on  any  opinion 
of  hers — concerning  himself. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  His  answer  was  spoken  ear- 
nestly. "  I  do  not  mea " 

But  she  interrupted  him.  In  her  nervous- 
ness felt  that  whilst  her  tongue  was  in  action 
it  would  help  to  keep  the  helm  the  right  way  ; 
said : 

"  Why  should  you  ?  A  stranger's  opinion 
would  necessarily  be  valueless.  You  know 
nothing  of  me." 

The  deafness  of  those  who  will  not  hear  is 
proverbial .  The  underlying  earnestness  in  the 
tone  of  his  reply  should  have  warned  her. 

"Aren't  you  going  just  a  trifle  too  far  ?  "  he 
asked.  "  We  are  not  quite  strangers.  True,  I 
know  nothing  of  you — except  that  you  are 
Miss  Mi  wins." 

An  irresistible  smile  accompanied  his  words. 
His  smile — and  his  laugh  too — were  capable 
of  creating  many  friends.  But  he  did  not 
allow  them  to.  His  views  on  the  subject  of 
friendship  were  cynical  in  the  extreme. 

His  smile  was  infectious.  Once  more  those 
alluring  dimples  which  he  had  noticed  at  their 
first  meeting  deepened  in  her  face. 

"  It  is  distinctly  more  my  misfortune  than 
my  fault,"  he  continued,  "  that  I  know  so 
little  of  you.  May  I  say — with  an  absence  of 

c 


34  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

fear  of  your  thinking  me  impertinent — that 
I  should  like,  much  like,  to  know  more  of 
you  ?  " 

The  flush,  that  becoming  flush,  on  her  cheek 
again.  The  eyes  were  fringed  over  by  those 
long  lashes  of  hers  as  she  cast  them  ground- 
wards.  Just  a  blend  of  trouble  in  her  look 
as  she  queried : 

"  Really  ?  " 

He  liked  the  pink  showing  on  the  white. 
Colours  inspire  some  men.  Perhaps  the  com- 
bination in  her  face  inspired  him.  Anyway, 
there  was  more  vigour  and  determination  in 
his  voice  as  he  answered : 

"  Yes." 

She,  dallying,  as  a  woman  will,  quite  well 
knew  that  there  was  a  spark.  That  it  would 
burst  into  flame,  chose  she  to  fan  it ;  gained 
time  by  asking  : 

"  Why  ?  " 

He  vaulted  on  to  his  hobby  horse.  The 
question  was  a  stirrup  helping  him  to  the 
saddle. 

"  Because  I — may  I  say  it  ? — hail  you  in  a 
measure  as  a  kindred  soul." 

She  lifted  her  eyes ;  he  could  not  fail  to 
read  the  astonishment  filling  them ;  con- 
tinued : 

'  You  are  here  in  October,  and  you  don't 
look  bored ;    don't  look  as  if    life  held  no 


THE   DANGER   SIGNAL  35 

further  charm  for  you.  You  do  not  follow 
the  fashionable  decrying  of  the  place  simply 
because  it  is  out  of  fashion — because  it  is 
October." 

She  smiled.  Encouraged  by  it,  he  con- 
tinued, in  the  same  strain  : 

"  You  are  always  alone,  yet  you  create  the 
impression  that  you  are  happy.  You  don't 
seem  to  sigh  for  bands  of  music,  to  hanker 
after  a  crowded  promenade.  You  find  exist- 
ence possible  without  a  shoal  of  people  to  help 
you  pass  your  time." 

Her  smile  broadened  into  a  laugh.  This 
time  at  herself — at  his  description  of  her  ;  she 
asked  : 

"  And  those — shall  I  call  them  unusual  ? — 
characteristics  in  a  woman  interest  you  ?  " 

"  Amazingly  !  " 

"  Why  ?  " 

She  put  the  question  with  a  little  nervous- 
ness, bred  of  that  eagerness  of  his. 

"  Because — well,  let  me  say  by  sheer  force 
of  contrast.  In  those  respects,  Heaven  be 
thanked,  you  are  not  as  other  women." 

The  amused  look  had  not  left  her  face.  It 
lingered  in  the  upward  curve  of  the  corners 
of  her  eyes. 

"  So  you  prefer  eccentric  women,  then  ?  " 

She  could  not  resist  just  a  trace  of  mischief 
in  the  tone  of  her  query.  He  answered  : 


36  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

11  Heaven  forefend !  I  see  nothing  eccentric 
in  the  attributes  I  have  allotted  to  you.  They 
are  refreshingly  good  to  a  thirsty  soul." 

The  amusement  and  mischief  tones  left  her 
voice.  She  asked  demurely: 

"  Are  you  thirsty  ?  " 

"  Parched  !  I  confess  I  am.  I  have  just 
escaped  from  the  dead  level  of  dry  convention- 
ality. That  arid  desert :  the  Sahara  of  Society. 
Its  womenkind  are  my  abomination." 

She  looked  a  little  annoyed.  As  if  not 
appreciating  his  description. 

"  I  have  heard  it  rumoured,  Mr.  Masters, 
that  you  fly  from  London  to  escape  Society's 
attentions." 

"  And  for  once  the  many-tongued  is  not  a 
lying  jade.  I  suppose  all  of  us,  every  man  and 
woman,  are  more  or  less  eccentric." 

"  Put  it  that  we,  most  of  us,  have  bees  in 
our  bonnets." 

"  Precisely.  The  buzzing  of  my  particular 
insect  is  the  artificial  life  of  modern  Society. 
I  just  loathe  it ;  never  go  out  for  that  reason. 
Fly  from  London  ?  Yes  ;  I  own  up  ;  I  do. 
As  fast  as  an  express  can  wing  me.  Fly  to 
escape  the  inanities  with  which  the  cup  of 
social  life  is  overflowing." 

"  Balls,  parties- 

"  And  things  of  that  sort  are  my  pet  hor- 
rors." 


THE   DANGER   SIGNAL  37 

She  smiled  at  the  expression  of  his  disgust ; 
his  manner  of  expressing  it ;  said : 

"  I  seem  to  be  shaking  a  red  rag  at  a  bull ! " 

"  If,"  he  continued,  "  Society  is  the  product 
of  civilization  I  am  an  untutored  savage. 
Not  an  ungrateful  one,  mark  you,  but  one 
thankful  for  his  savagery.  Afternoon  teas, 
flower  shows,  and  the  hundred  and  one  idiotic 
things  which  go  to  make  up  the  ordinary 
every-day  life  in  London  ought  to  be  abolished 
by  a  drastic  Act  of  Parliament." 

Her  smile  merged  into  laughter.  She  had 
gauged  his  capacity  for  exaggeration  by  this 
time.  The  beginning  of  her  understanding 
of  him  was  setting  in.  Her  laugh  over,  she 
said : 

"  I  think  you  are  very  drastic.'* 

"  I  hope  not !  " 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  if  you  think  so,  I  have  been  mis- 
taken. I  have  formed  a  wrong  estimate  of 
your  character  if  you  care  for  those  things." 

"  And  supposing  I  did  ?  Would  it  be,  think 
you — unwomanly  ?  " 

"  As  the  world  wags  ?  No.  On  the  con- 
trary. The  absolute  quintessence  of  womanli- 
ness in  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  women 
out  of  a  possible  thousand." 

«  But " 

"Ah!  that  is  it!" 


38  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  But  if  I  did  care  for  all  and  singular  the 
things  you  object  to  so  much  ?  " 

"  I  should  be  sorry — really  sorry — that  I 
had  spoken  as  I  have  done." 

"  Why  ?  " 

'  Because  it  would,  must,  savour  of  imper- 
tinence. We,  each  of  us,  have  a  right  to  our 
own  opinions.  I  should  just  hate  to  think 
that  I  have  been  forcing  mine  on  any  one  ;  it 
would  be  a  painful  thing.  Opinions,  like 
boots,  should  fit  the  wearer — neither  too  nar- 
row nor  too  wide,  and  possibly  an  allowance  for 
stretching  a  point.  To  force  an  opinion  would 
be  a  modernized  version  of  the  iron  boot  the 
torturers  used  to  handle  in  the  Inquisition 
days." 

"  But  you  expressed  yourself" — she  smiled 
at  the  recollection  of  it — "  very  strongly  just 
now." 

"  Because  I  thought  we  were  more  or  less 
on  the  same  plane  ;  were  thinking  in  common. 
I  hoped  so." 

"  Tell  me,  will  you,  why  you  thought  me 
different  from  other  women  :  thought  as  you 
did  of  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  come  !  Isn't  that  now — don't  you 
think  that  rather  hard  on  me  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  To  put  such  a  question  as  that.  Calling 
on  me  to  tell  you  why  I  think." 


THE   DANGER   SIGNAL  39 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Think  !  If  I  could  bring  myself  to  lie 
you  would  not  like  it.  Yet,  supposing  I  said 
something  to  offend  you  ?  " 

"  Why  should  you  ?  " 

"  Because  of  my  ignorance.  I  would  not 
for  worlds — knowingly.  You  would  know 
that  I  should  not  mean  to." 

"  Very  well,  then.  Why  should  I  take 
offence  where  none  is  intended  ?  " 

He  hesitated  a  moment.  Plainly  saw  the 
danger-signal  flying  ;  then  he  spoke : 

"  You  are  a  woman." 

She  tossed  her  head  at  that.  There  was  no 
mistaking  the  tone  in  which  she  said  : 

"  Thank  you  !  " 

"There!  .  .  .  Proof  positive!  I  won't  speak; 
I  won't  risk  it.  I  am  most  anxious  not  to 
offend  you,  and  you  shan't  force  my  hand." 

She  tapped  impatiently  with  the  toe  of  her 
shoe. 


CHAPTER  V 

PLAYING  WITH   FIRE 

MISS  MIVVINS  was  annoyed ;  the  im- 
patient tapping  was  evidence  of  it. 
Not  that  a  little  exhibition  of  temper  in  any 
way  detracted  from  her  personal  appearance. 
On  the  contrary,  the  air  of  petulance  height- 
ened her  charms. 

"  You  are  just  like  a  man ! " 

Her  speech  was  accompanied  by  another  toss 
of  her  shapely  head. 

"  Isn't  that  twisting  things  round  ?  You 
mean  that  he  never  gives  a  reason  for  what 
he  says  or  does  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Resumption  of  tattoo  with  her  foot  on  the 
ground.  It  made  him  exclaim : 

"  I  knew  I  was  right !  What  if  I  tell  you 
that  I  am  a  mind  reader  ?  " 

"  I  would  not  be  a  bit  surprised  ! " 

He  was:  greatly.  Could  not  understand 
what  she  meant ;  queried  : 


PLAYING   WITH   FIRE  41 

"  You  wouldn't  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  I  am — to  hear  you  say  it.     Why  ?  " 

"  Because  in  this  book  of  yours  I  am  read- 
ing "  —she  held  it  up — "  I  see  you  believe  in 
palmistry." 

"  Come,  come  ! "  He  was  genuine  in  his 
expostulation.  "  I  make  one  of  my  charac- 
ters believe  in  it." 

"  Then  you  do  not  ?  " 

She  had  him  in  a  corner;  was  merciless. 
He  tried  to  wriggle  out ;  said : 

"  I  did  not  say  so." 

It  was  an  infecund  effort  on  his  part.  She 
pinned  him  in  still  further  ;  was  that  kind  of 
woman. 

"  What  does  that  mean  ?  That  you  do 
and  you  do  not  ?  " 

There  was  nothing  for  him  but  to  fence  ;  he 
answered : 

"  Yes  and  No." 

It  did  not  in  any  way  extricate  him  from  his 
difficulty.  She  continued : 

"  You  are  a  complete  enigma." 

"  There  is  no  prize  offered  for  the  solution." 

He  endeavoured  to  speak  lightly,  to  bring 
the  conversation  back  to  the  humorous  line 
it  had  left ;  continued  : 

"  I  have  known  people  take  quite  an  interest 
in  enigmas.  Do  you  ?  " 


42  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

She  changed  the  subject.  Kept  away  from 
where  there  was  a  treading  on  dangerous 
ground  ;  felt  the  ice  getting  thin ;  said : 

"  I  gather  that  this  palmist  character  of 
yours  professes  to  read  the  past,  but  does  not 
venture  on  prophecy  ?  " 

"  I  venture  on  prophecy  now ! " 

He  spoke  suddenly,  rising  as  he  did  so. 
Picking  up  his  books,  and — for  the  first  time 
—quietly  possessing  himself  of  her  bag,  con- 
tinued : 

"  That  rapidly  travelling  cloud,  at  present 
looking  very  little  larger  than  a  man's  hand, 
coming  from  the  south,  is  full  of  rain.  It  will 
burst  before  we  are  back  in  the  town,  unless 
we  hurry.  Gracie  !  Gracie  !  " 

The  little  girl  came  running  in  response  to 
his  call.  All  three,  for  the  first  time,  walked 
homewards  together.  A  student  of  human 
nature  might  have  seen  in  it  a  beginning  ol 
things. 

11 1  am  living  in  Marine  Terrace." 

He  was  describing  the  situation  of  his  t 
lodgings.  Waited  for  her  to  respond,  and  • 
then  asked  : 

"  Have  you  far  to  go  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  so  far  as  you  have ;  little  more  than 
half-way.  Ivy  Cottage  ;  on  the  front.  Do 
you  know " 

"  That   pretty   little   bungalow   with   the 


PLAYING   WITH  FIRE  43 

creeper  over   the  porch  ?    Before  we  reach 
the  big  houses  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

He  cast  an  eye  over  his  shoulder  at  the  still 
distant  cloud,  gauging  the  time  of  its  breaking ; 
said : 

"  When  the  rain  comes  it  will  last,  I  fear. 
That  will  mean  confinement  to  the  house." 

"  I  fancy  so,  too.  The  local  weatherwise  are 
predicting  it  also.  You  are  not  the  only  pro- 
phet. '  Corns  are  shooting  and  roomatiz  is 
bad.'  " 

He  laughed  at  her  excellent  imitation  of  the 
dialect  ruling  the  language  of  the  people ;  then 
said  : 

"  May  I  be  personal  ?  How  are  you  off  for 
reading  matter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Mudie's  have  sent  me  down  an 
absolutely  abominable  selection.  With  " — a 
twinkle  escaped  from  the  corner  of  her  eye — 
"  with  the  exception  of  that  one  of  yours." 

"  I  won't  gratify  you  with  even  a  smile  of 

approval  at  so  callous  a  joke,"  he  said  coolly. 

'  To  trample  on  my  feelings  so  is  positively 

inhuman.     Still,  that  '  exception  '  emboldens 

me." 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

'  That  finding  you  interested  in  one  of  my 
books,  I  want  you  to  let  me — I  want  you  to 
favour  me  by  accepting  from  me  a  set  ?  " 


44  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  A  set  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  guilty  of  five  others."  Mock 
despair  was  in  his  tone.  "  Accept  my  con- 
trite apologies." 

"  Five  others  !  " 

"  I  have  to  plead  guilty  to  that  number. 
Heinous,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  did  not  mean  that." 

"  And  so  young  too  !  " 

"  Really,  Mr.  Masters  !  "  The  flush  was 
being  worn  again.  "  You  are,  really,  too  bad  ; 
raking  up  old  grievances  !  " 

"  I  would  like  you  to  try  and  think  there 
is  a  substratum  of  good." 

She  ignored  his  speech,  rather  the  signifi- 
cance in  the  tone  of  its  delivery ;  said  : 

"  I  did  not  know — I  confess  openly,  you 
see.  This  makes  but  the  third  of  yours  I  have 
read." 

"  Then  there  is  a  possibility  of  interest  being 
left  in  the  three  you  have  not  read.  Let  the 
weather  be  my  excuse  for  forcing  them  on 
you." 

"As  if  an  excuse  were  needed !  Pray  do 
not  speak  of  your  kindness  so  !  " 

"  Then — I  have  some  work  I  must  finish 
this  afternoon  for  the  post — may  I  bring  them 
to  you  this  evening  ?  " 

She  hesitated  a  moment.  Induced  to  do 
so  by  a  thought  of  the  unwisdom  of  playing 


PLAYING   WITH   FIRE  45 

with  fire .   His  hyper-sensitive  nature  made  him 
shrink  from  that  hesitation,  to  nervously  say  : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  mean  I  will  make 
a  parcel  of  them  and  send  them  up  to  you." 

The  note  of  pain  in  his  voice  was  so  plain 
that  any  question  of  her  wisdom — or  want  of 
it — vanished.  She  was  moved  to  put  her 
hand  on  his  arm  ;  to  say  : 

"  Don't  deprive  me  of  half  the  pleasure  of 
the  gift.  Please  bring  them  yourself." 

It  was  a  pretty  little  speech.  Prettily 
spoken.  No  answering  word  came  to  his 
lips,  but  the  look  of  gladness  in  his  eyes  was 
eloquent.  Eloquent  enough  to  make  her 
mentally  pause  again  and  ask  herself  :  was 
she  acting  altogether  wisely  ? 

Miss  Mi  wins  was  sailing  under  false  colours. 
Was  not  in  a  position  to  haul  them  down,  or 
fly  her  own.  But  she  found  him  entertaining 
and — and — and  very  pleasant  to  talk  to.  She 
left  it  at  that. 

She  could  not  afterwards  remember  much 
of  what  they  talked  about  on  their  walk  along 
the  wall  homewards.  But  she  was  conscious 
of  spending  a  very  pleasant  afternoon  ;  that  it 
had  passed  away  all  too  quickly.  The  most 
entertaining  conversations  are  usually  those 
which  flow  so  smoothly  that  we  forget  to  note 
the  landmarks  and  stepping-stones  on  the  way. 

She  was  in  a  quandary  :  dared  not  reveal 


46  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

to  him  her  true  self.  She  had  learnt  enough 
of  him  to  know  that  if  she  ran  up  her  own 
flag,  one  glance  at  the  masthead  would  mean 
his  sheering  right  away. 

She  was  not  at  all  anxious  that  that  should 
happen  ;  did  not  want  to  lose  him.  She  had 
grown  to — to — to  more  than  like  him.  Why, 
she  asked  herself  petulantly,  why  could  he 
not  be  as  other  men  ? 

The  rain  held  off  till  they  reached  her  gate. 
There  they  said  good-bye,  shaking  hands  for 
the  first  time.  The  touch  thrilled  them  both. 
As  an  outcome  he  saw  possibilities  ;  felt  what 
their  meeting  might  possibly  lead  to.  It  was 
a  pleasant  feeling.  Things  were  coloured  by 
it — colour  of  the  rose. 

Her  good-bye  was  spoken  lightly.  In- 
stinctively she  tried  to  counteract  that  thrill. 
Yet  there  was  a  lingering  tone  in  her  voice  as 
she  said,  finally  : 

"  Till  eight  o'clock." 

Then  came  Gracie's  turn.  He  stooped 
down,  lifted  and  kissed  her.  She  said — 

"  Good-bye,  Prince  Charlie.  I  shan't  see 
you  in  the  evening  because  I  go  to  bed  at  half- 
past  seven." 

"  My  word  !  Half-past  seven  !  How  late 
for  a  little  girl  to  sit  up  !  " 

She  exclaimed  indignantly  at  so  gross  an 
insult : 


PLAYING    WITH   FIRE  47 

"  I'm  not  a  little  girl !     I'm  nearly  five  !  " 

Her  indignation  was  a  fleeting  one.  He 
held  her  away  ;  threw  her  up  in  the  air  till 
she  screamed  with  the  delight  of  the  pleasant 
fear.  Then  caught  and  kissed  her  and  set  the 
mite  on  her  feet  again. 

So  he  dealt  with  the  child.  Then,  raising 
his  hat,  gave  a  final  kindly  smile  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  governess ;  nodded  and  said  a  final 
good-bye. 

Such  was  their  parting.  Each  was  full  of 
thoughts  of  the  other.  He  walked  home 
wonderingly,  thinking,  why — for  what  reason 
— she  had  said  eight  o'clock.  It  sounded  so 
— then  he  laughed  at  his  stupid  thought. 

So  life  touches  life  a  moment,  thrills  and 
bids  it  stay — as  two  drops  of  water  in  a  peace- 
ful stream  may  touch  for  an  instant  and  in 
the  next  be  parted  by  the  waving  reeds. 

What  of  after  meetings  ?  Would  they  be 
guided  to  one  another  by  that  strange  fate 
that  we  call  Destiny  ? 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   STRANGE   REQUEST 

AS  a  weather  prophet  Masters  proved 
more  reliable  than  those  who  fill  a 
like  mission  on  the  daily  papers. 

It  rained  heavily  all  the  afternoon.  His 
landlady  when  she  brought  in  his  tea  remarked 
that  it  was  pouring  cats  and  dogs — the 
latter,  presumably,  of  the  Skye  terrier  breed. 

A  temporary  clearance  of  the  weather 
came  about  in  the  evening.  Masters  was 
glad  ;  he  went  to  Ivy  Cottage.  The  bunga- 
low-like building  was  curiously  situate  in 
its  own  square  piece  of  grass  land,  fronting 
the  sea.  The  back  of  the  house  looked 
on  to  the  road  leading  to  the  railway  station 
a  little  distance  away.  Admission  to  the 
cottage  was  gained  by  doors  at  back  and 
front  of  it. 

The  house  agent  entrusted  with  the  letting 
of  the  place  had  described  it  as  possessed  of 
advantages  not  to  be  passed  over  lightly. 


A    STRANGE   REQUEST  49 

There  was  one — an  unsurpassed  convenience 
in  the  matter  of  not  missing  a  train — that 
certainly  was  undeniable  and  evident. 

So  close  was  the  back  of  the  house  to  the 
railway  that  from  the  windows  an  approaching 
train  could  be  seen  in  time  enough  to  allow 
of  easy  walking  to  catch  it.  Masters  walked 
up  the  gravel  path  to  the  front  door.  Touched 
the  push  of  the  bell.  .  .  A  trim  maid-servant 
responded.  He  enquired  : 

"  Miss  Mi  wins — is  she  within  ?  " 

The  girl  started.  Hesitated  as  she  looked 
at  him  closely — doubtfully — for  a  moment. 
Then  opened  a  side  door  in  the  hall,  requesting 
him  to  enter  and  be  seated. 

It  was  a  charmingly  arranged  room  to 
which  he  was  thus  introduced.  Evidenced 
woman  in  every  insignificant  little  detail ; 
her  gentle  touch  was  visible  in  all  things. 
He  thought  of  the  touch  of  one  woman  in 
particular. 

Miss  Mivvins'  spirit  seemed  to  have  im- 
pressed itself  in  every  fold  of  the  curtains  ; 
in  all  the  quiet  harmony  of  colouring  ;  in 
the  inexpensive  simplicity  of  the  whole — as 
distinct  from  cheapness. 

Expensive  simplicity  often  stamps  the 
quality  of  a  room ;  it  was  not  to  be  seen 
here.  There  was  nothing  cheap  about  the 
furnishing ;  nothing  meretricious ;  nothing 

D 


50  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

to  catch  the  eye.  Nothing  of  the  enamel 
paint  and  varnish  description  ;  all  in  that 
apartment  was  plainly  and  simply  what  it 
represented  itself  to  be  ;  its  keynote  :  truth. 

Masters  was  astonished.  Because  he 
had  no  idea  that  such  signs  of  refinement 
existed  in  Wivernsea.  But  then  he  knew 
its  lodging  houses  only — where  the  great  god 
is  Aspinall  and  an  uneasy  chair  the  only 
attempt  at  comfort. 

He  sat  some  moments  waiting.  Whilst 
doing  so,  he  thought  again  of  the  curious 
way  in  which  the  maid  had  looked  at  him. 
Perhaps  Miss  Miwins  was  in  a  less  comfort- 
able place  than  he  had  thought.  He  had  judged 
by  the  freedom  she  enjoyed,  that  no  possible 
harm  could  result  from  his  visit  to  her. 
Was  he  wrong  ? 

Perhaps  that  accounted  for  her  hesitation, 
when  he  had  suggested  calling  with  the 
books.  What  a  fool  he  had  been,  not  to  think 
of  that !  Perhaps  she  would  get  into  trouble 
by  reason  of  his  visit  to  her  employer's  house. 

The  more  he  thought  of  this  the  more 
uncomfortable  he  became.  As  a  result  of 
his  deliberations,  determined  that  he  would 
make  his  stay  a  short  and  formal  one.  There 
could  surely  be  no  harm  accrue  to  her  from 
that. 

The  rustle  of  a  woman's  dress  warned  him 


A    STRANGE   REQUEST  51 

of  her  approach.  Presently  she  entered.  The 
moment  his  eyes  rested  on  her  he  was  amazed  : 
she  was  dressed  so  perfectly.  No  scrap  of 
colour;  no  scintillation  of  a  jewel. 

He  had  a  mere  man's  eye  for  woman's 
dress — sensible  of  the  tout  ensemble,  not  of 
detail — but  he  did  not  despise  it.  It  seemed 
fitting  to  him  that  graceful  women  should 
be  gracefully  attired. 

All  harmony  was  grateful  to  his  soul ; 
it  did  not  seem  unnatural  for  Miss  Mivvins 
to  be  gowned  in  accordance  with  her  beauty. 
Still  he  experienced  astonishment,  grave  aston- 
ishment, when  she  entered. 

For  the  life  of  him  he  could  not  have 
defined  the  impression  which  took  hold  of 
him.  But  he  knew  that  her  gown  was  of 
some  soft,  rich,  silken,  costly  texture. 
Resultant  upon  that  was  the  belief  that  her 
place  must  be  an  easier  one  than  he  had 
begun  to  think  it. 

The  extension  of  her  hand  to  him.  Once 
more  with  it  in  his  own,  he  felt  thrilled. 
That  feeling  and  his  previous  resolve  to  hurry 
away  did  not  blend  well.  The  thrill  remained  ; 
the  resolve  faded. 

He  produced  the  books  he  had  promised 
to  bring  with  him.  On  the  fly-leaf  of  each 
he  had  written  her  name  ;  beneath  it  had 
appended  his  signature.  So  many  people 


52  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

bothered  him  for  autograph  copies  of  his 
books,  that  it  was  a  pardonable  vanity 
if  he  had  begun  to  think  there  was  something 
around  his  signature  which  enhanced  the 
value  of  his  works.  So  he  had  penned  the 
words,  With  kindest  regards,  from  the  Author, 
between  her  name  and  his  own. 

At  sight  of  what  he  had  written  she  laughed. 
At  first,  gently ;  a  gentleness  which  passed 
into  real  hearty  mirth.  Then,  catching  sight 
of  his  face,  the  laugh  died  away  ashamedly  ! 
Had  she  whipped  him  he  could  not  have 
looked  more  hurt.  His  hyper-sensitive 
nature  was  suffering. 

That  laughter  acted  on  Masters  as  if  the 
ceiling  had  opened  and  a  shower  of  cold 
water  had  fallen — his  face  showed  it.  To 
be  the  subject  of  mirth  was  a  novelty  to  him. 
He  was  glad  that  that  was  so.  Felt  that 
it  was  not  a  pleasant  sensation  to  experience. 
That  a  very  little  of  it  went  an  extremely  long 
way. 

She  flushed  with  annoyance  at  her  own 
rudeness ;  with  shame  for  having  wounded 
the  feelings  of  her  visitor.  He  had  not  the 
faintest  idea  why  she  laughed,  of  course; 
want  of  knowledge  so  often  leads  to  mis- 
understanding. She  said  hurriedly : 

"  I  hope  you  do  not — oh,  how  can  I  explain 
what  I  was  laughing  at  ?  Mr.  Masters, 


A    STRANGE   REQUEST  53 

don't,  pray  don't — I  beg  of  you — think  I 
was  rude — intended  to  be  rude — or  that  I 
was  laughing  at  anything  even  remotely  con- 
nected with  these  books,  which,  believe  me, 
I  shall  always  value,  always  prize." 

That  earnest  humble  little  speech  of  hers 
did  not  sponge  away  the  look  from  his  face. 
In  her  eagerness  to  acquit  herself  she  placed 
her  hand  on  his  arm — it  was  for  the  second 
time  that  day.  It  was  a  habit  of  hers  when 
moved.  Was  quite  an  innocent  gesture;  but 
there  was — in  his  estimation,  anyway — a 
distinct  piquancy  about  its  naturalness. 

"  Oh— Mr.  Masters  !  " 

She  got  as  far  as  that.  Then  stood  at  a 
loss  for  words.  She  had  spoken  in  such 
dead  earnest  tones  that  it  would  have  been 
absurd  to  think  her  lying.  Finding  her 
tongue  again,  she  continued  : 

"  Pray,  pray  believe  me  !  I  was  stupid, 
I  know,  but  don't  be  so  hard  as  to  think  me 
capable  of  insulting  you.  Don't !  Please, 
don't !  " 

His  forgiveness  was  hers  that  moment. 
The  wonder  remained  what  she  could  have 
laughed  at — but  all  else  was  forgotten.  She 
had  looked  into  his  eyes — a  pretty  woman's 
trick,  mostly  always  successful.  When  per- 
formed with  such  eyes  as  Miss  Miwins' 
failure  was  absolutely  impossible. 


54  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  I  don't  think  you  rude.  Don't  think 
you  insulting.  I  could  not  think  any  ill 
thing  of  you  if  I  tried." 

She  had  badly  wanted  to  hear  just  some 
such  thing.  But  there  was  that  in  the  tone 
in  which  he  spoke  it  that  made  her  flush 
again.  She  drew  in  her  breath ;  drew  back  a 
little. 

"  I  am  so  glad  !  " 

Miss  Mi  wins  spoke  impetuously — nervously. 
She  to  be  nervous  !  And  that,  too,  in  speaking 
to  such  a  boyish,  ingenuous  individual  as 
was  Masters  !  It  was  quite  too  absurd  !  She 
continued  : 

"  I — I  should  not  like  you  to  think  badly 
of  me." 

She  was  obviously  ill  at  ease — the  obvious- 
ness was  the  worst  part  of  it.  She  knew  that 
herself ;  knew  quite  well.  It  was  because 
he  believed  in  her  !  Because  he  trusted  her 
so  implicitly ;  had  an  almost  childlike  faith  in 
her. 

With  all  the  other  men  she  had  known, 
on  whom  she  had  exerted  the  power  of  her 
fascination,  her  woman's  ways  and  wiles  had 
seemed  fair  and  fitting.  They  were  but  part 
of  the  game,  and  understood  by  both  sides  of 
it.  The  men  had  been  men  of  the  world — her 
world — armed  and  armoured  against  her 
coquetry  and  charm. 


A    STRANGE   REQUEST  55 

Flirtation  in  those  instances  had  been 
carried  to  the  point  of  a  fine  art — it  was 
part  of  the  life  she  lived.  But  it  had  been 
flirtation,  pure  and  simple.  Though  it  was 
amusing  enough  while  it  lasted,  it  had  been 
fencing  with  blunt  points. 

No  one  had  any  wounds — not  a  scratch. 
Experience  had  taught  them  all  to  play  the 
game  skilfully.  No  one  had  been  deceived 
into  taking  things  seriously.  No  soul  was  a 
scrap  the  worse. 

But  Masters  was  of  another  world  than 
hers.  Superficiality  seemed  unknown  to  him; 
he  put  his  heart  into  what  he  said  and  did. 
Playing  with  life  was  evidently  a  thing  unknown 
to  him;  he  was  in  earnest;  always  would  be  ; 
that  was  his  temperament.  Honest  himself, 
he  believed  her  to  be  likewise. 

What  a  character  !  Of  course  it  appealed 
to  her — she  would  not  have  been  a  woman  if 
it  had  not.  He  would  face  her  woman's 
weapons — even  her  most  innocent  little  decep- 
tions— unsuspecting  ;  unarmed.  To  shower 
on  him  the  full  force  of  her  artillery  would  be 
grossly  unfair. 

She  was  constrained  to  throw  off  the 
conventional.  To  don  the  mantle  of  guileless- 
ness — such  as  he  wore  himself.  He  made  it 
impossible  for  her  to  act  otherwise.  But 
the  experience  was  quite  a  new  one  to  her  ;  it 


56  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

was  the  novelty  that  made  her  nervous. 
To  be  trusted — implicitly — was  delightfully 
disconcerting. 

Her  manner  filled  Masters  with  wonder. 
The  key  to  the  mysterious  nervousness  was 
not  in  his  possession.  Again  there  flitted 
across  his  mind  the  idea  that  it  arose  from 
his  visit  to  her  employer's  house. 

His  resolution  to  stay  but  a  little  time 
occurred  to  him.  It  would  be  best  to  go. 
Yet  he  abhorred  the  idea  of  so  speedy  a 

parting;  if  only  he  could He  paused. 

Thought  a  moment.  Risked  it ;  said 
tentatively  : 

"  The  rain  has  ceased.  It  is  damp  below 
but  bright  above." 

A  pause.  His  reference  to  the  weather 
seemed  out  of  place.  She  did  not  know  the 
difficulty  he  was  experiencing  in  screwing 
his  courage  to  the  sticking  place.  He  con- 
tinued : 

"  I  am  walking  to  the  end  of  the  parade 
and  back." 

Having  voiced  as  much,  his  conversational 
powers  failed  him.  He  somehow  hoped 
that  she  would  suggest  joining  him  in  his 
walk.  That  his  ignorance  of  women  was  of 
vast  magnitude  was  evidenced  by  the  nature 
of  that  hope. 

He   was   very    transparent — so    much    so 


A    STRANGE   REQUEST  57 

that  there  was  no  difficulty  in  guessing  his 
thoughts.  She  smiled.  Ingenuousness  was 
scarcely  the  word  for  him  !  He  should  have 
known  the  impossibility  of  her  offering  to 
accompany  him,  however  much  she  might 
desire  to  do  so.  As  she  did  not  speak  he 
went  even  further,  saying,  with  nervous 
awkwardness  : 

"  It  is  a  warm  evening — will  you  walk  with 
me?" 

The  smile  left  her  face  and  her  eyes  opened 
wide.  She  was  startled  at  the  suddenness 
of  his  request.  Still  more  at  the  nature  of  it. 
Then  remembered  the  nature  of  the  man. 
Felt  too  that  there  was  owing  to  him  some- 
thing for  that  unkind  laugh  of  hers.  Then 
there  was  the  trend  of  her  own  feelings ! 
After  a  moment  she  tossed  discretion  to  the 
winds  ;  said  : 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to — if  you  wish  it !  " 

The  words  spoken,  she  was  amazed  at 
their  utterance.  Her  ready  acquiescence 
pleased  him.  It  voiced  that  honesty  he 
thought  so  precious  in  her,  which  was  so 
sadly  lacking  in  other  women.  He  suspected 
that  another  member  of  her  sex  would  have 
raised  scruples,  merely  that  he  might  flatter 
himself  that  he  had  overcome  them. 

The  absence  of  such  coquetry  in  Miss 
Mivvins  was  refreshing — refreshing  as  the 


58  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

rays  of  the  sun  after  electric  light.  So  he 
likened  her  womanhood  to  other  women's. 
He  little  knew  what  a  whited  sepulchre  she 
felt  herself  to  be.  His  admiration  of  what  she 
did  not  possess  positively  hurt  her. 

Leaving  the  room  for  outdoor  covering, 
she  presently  returned  with  a  long  warm 
cloak  and  her  hat.  Had  got  them  from  the 
hall ;  came  back  with  them  over  her  arm. 
Having  agreed  to  accompany  him,  she  lost 
no  time. 

He  assisted  her  to  put  on  the  cloak :  an 
expensive,  fur-lined  wrap.  He  could  not  but 
notice  that  as,  with  trembling  fingers — a 
nervousness  born  of  his  touch  of  her — he 
helped  to  button  the  garment  down  the 
front. 

Microbes  multiply  in  darkness ;  sunlight 
kills  them.  Her  natural  manner,  open  as 
day,  crushed  the  germ  of  suspicion.  They 
left  the  house  and  walked  along  the  parade  : 
5n  the  direction  of  the  seat  at  the  end  of  it. 


CHAPTER  VII 

READING   THE    HAND 

THE  moon  was  now  shining,  now  obscured. 
A  capricious,  gusty  wind  played  fantastic 
tricks  with  dark  clouds  across  its  face.  But 
by  the  time  the  eastern  end  of  the  sea  wall 
was  reached  the  Goddess  of  Night  had  risen 
clear ;  was  shining  brightly.  She  silvered 
and  lighted  up  the  rippling  waters  :  jewelling 
it  as  only  the  moon  can. 

"  Shall  we  rest  for  a  few  minutes  ?  " 

The  suggestion  was  Masters'.  Not  that 
he  was  tired.  But  he  had  that  on  his  mind 
to  unload,  which  he  felt  would  be  easier 
of  utterance  sitting  down. 

They  sat.  After  an  awkward  interval — 
she  was  afraid  to  help  him — he  spoke  again. 
Not  without  difficulty.  Love-making  in 
his  novels  he  had  found  the  easiest  part  of 
his  writing.  He  was  finding  reality  a  steed 
of  a  totally  different  colour. 

In  an  imaginative  man  it  is  possible  for 


60  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

imagination  to  be  more  real  than  reality ; 
just  as  a  painting  may  give  a  truer  impression 
than  a  photograph.  To  Masters,  just  now, 
reality  seemed  frigid  and  limited.  He  felt 
himself  bound ;  tied  down  to — and  by — 
hard-and-fast  lines. 

Then  again  there  was  the  horrible  un- 
certainty :  he  was  not  sure.  It  was  necessary 
to  feel  his  way.  He  had  heard  her  laugh 
once.  He  did  not  need  a  second  edition  of 
that — with  himself  filling  the  role  of  laughee. 
He  had  no  desire  to  figure  as  a  larger-sized  ass 
than  was  possible.  Putting  stripes  on  a 
donkey  does  not  make  a  zebra  of  it.  He  said 
slowly : 

"  I  have  been  here,  to  Wivernsea,  regularly 
for  years  past.  Have  sat  on  this  seat 
scores  and  scores  of  times.  Now — I  shall 
never  forget  Wivernsea  or  this  seat." 

That  was  his  heavily-shod  method  of 
feeling  his  way  ;  of  nearly  putting  his  foot 
into  it.  She  afforded  him  no  fragment 
of  assistance ;  being  a  woman,  of  course 
help  was  not  to  be  expected  of  her.  Woman 
is  an  enigma  ;  sympathetic  to  the  point  of 
soft-as-silk,  heart  bleeding  ;  yet  there  are 
times  when  she  finds  pleasure  in  a  man's 
agony.  Masters'  speech  simply  elicited  the 
query  : 

"  Why  ?  " 


READING    THE   HAND  61 

He  gathered  boldness  from  the  sheer 
impudence  of  her  question.  Felt  that  it 
was  impossible  that  she  could  have  mis- 
understood ;  said  : 

"  I  shall  always  link  the  place — and  the 
seat — with  thoughts  of  you." 

Her  impudence  had  limits.  She  could  not 
affect  to  misunderstand  that.  Besides,  the 
accelerated  beating  of  her  heart  warned 
her.  She  must  change  the  subject. 

"  The  last  time  we  were  sitting  here,  Mr. 
Masters,  you  hurriedly  broke  into  the  subject 
of  palmistry,  with  wise  prophecies  of  bad 
weather." 

"  Realized  prophecies  !  Give  me  that 
credit !  " 

"  Certainly  ;  you  deserve  it  !  But  tell  me 
now — quite  seriously — do  you  believe  in 
palmistry  ?  " 

The  dexterous  turning  of  the  subject  an- 
noyed him.  He  was,  however,  compelled  to 
reply  to  her  question  ;  said  : 

"  Seriously  ?     Well,  to  an  extent — yes." 

"  Really  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  think  I  go  too  far  !  Don't 
for  a  moment  suppose  that  I  am  pretending 
that  the  geography  of  the  future,  mountains, 
plains — the  ups  and  downs  of  life — can  be 
studied  from  the  map  of  the  hand." 

"  And  yet  I  have  heard " 


62  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  Charlatans  profess  to  do  so  ?  Oh,  yes ; 
scores  of  them.  I  can  understand  a  nimble- 
witted,  half-a-guinea — or  a  guinea  if  she 
can  get  it — Regent  Street  sibyl  professing 
so.  That  is  fraud ;  absolute  downright  fraud. 
But  I  believe  that  much  of  a  man's  or  woman's ' 
temperament,  disposition,  call  it  what  you 
will,  can  be  plainly  read  from  the  lines  of  the 
hand." 

"  Read  mine." 

She  spoke  impulsively.  Persuasively  too, 
the  while  she  pulled  off  her  glove.  Palmistry, 
if  it  does  not  truly  predict  fate,  is  ofttimes 
responsible  for  much  of  its  direction. 

To  hold  her  warm  little  hand  in  his — she 
had  kept  it  close  within  the  recesses  of 
her  muff — was  much  too  good  an  opportun- 
ity to  let  slip.  He  bent  over ;  spent  quite  a 
time  on  the  study  of  the  lines  on  her  palm. 
He  had  only  the  light  of  the  moon  to  work 
by ;  perhaps  that  accounted  for  the  time 
expenditure  ;  or  perhaps  he — well,  anyway, 
he  was  holding  her  hand  all  the  while. 

During  the  task — it  was  a  silent  one — 
he  was  tempted,  sore,  to  put  his  lips  in  the 
warm  centre  of  what  he  held.  Possibly 
she  divined  that ;  gathered  it  perhaps  from 
the  trembling  of  his  fingers  as  they  grasped 
her  own.  Stiffening  a  little,  she  queried : 

"  Well  ?  " 


READING    THE   HAND  63 

Her  voice  was  as  the  application  of  a 
brake  ;  pulled  him  up.  Tightening  his  hold 
on  himself  he  loosened  his  tongue. 

"  Temperament  first,"  he  answered.  "  Pas- 
sionate— wilful — affectionate — hasty " 

The  reading  was  wound  up  at  that  point. 
The  cataloguer  paused,  as  it  were,  in  the 
middle  of  his  list.  In  astonishment  she 
asked : 

"  Why  do  you  stop  ?  Is  that  all  you  can 
read  ?  " 

"  No — no.  But  my  belief — my  faith — is 
shaken  !  " 

Just  a  faint  tremor  in  the  voice — it  was 
not  unnoticed  by  him — as  she  asked  : 

"  Faith  ?     In  what  ?  " 

He  fenced.  Did  not  like  to  shape  words 
around  what  he  thought  he  read.  The 
truth  is  not  always  pleasant.  So  it  was  that 
he  answered : 

"  Palmistry  as  a  science." 

The  woman's  voice  was  steadied  again. 
There  was  a  ring  of  merriment  in  it,  ridiculing 
his  seriousness,  as  she  said — • 

"  Why  this  shaken  faith  ?  Because  of  what 
you  read  in  my  hand  ?  " 

"  M'yes." 

"  Tell  me " 

"No.  What  I  have  read — the  indications 
— I  know  to  be  wrong.  This  is  a  rude  shock 


64  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

to  my  credence  !  I  shall  never  again  believe 
in  palmistry's  infallibility  !  " 

"  Tell  me  ?  " 

She  spoke  impatiently  ;  her  curiosity  was 
well  aroused.  Scrutinizing  her  hand  with 
interest  ;  wholly  disbelieving  him,  she  said 
imperatively  : 

"  What  do  you  read  ?  " 

"  There  seemed  to  be  indicated  character- 
istics there,  the  exact  opposite  of  those  you 
possess." 

"Tell  me?" 

"  No." 

She  drew  her  hand  away  a  trifle  angrily  : 
obstinacy  opposed  to  curiosity  is  as  flint  to 
steel.  Fingers,  trembling  a  little,  began 
putting  on  her  glove.  The  look  in  her 
eyes  could  not  be  truthfully  described  as 
softness ;  all  the  same  it  was  very  be- 
coming. 

He  was  not  insensible  of  her  feeling, 
for  the  birth  of  which  he  was  responsible. 
Just  restrained  her  :  put  his  hand  out  on  to 
hers.  A  simple  act,  but  one  he  performed 
more  gravely  than  the  occasion  warranted ; 
said: 

"  Don't  be  angry." 

Then  hesitated ;  conscious,  now  he  had 
spoken,  that  the  admonition — by  presuppos- 
ing cause  for  it — was  not  likely  to  improve 


READING    THE   HAND  65 

matters.    Felt   that   he   had   put   a   large- 
sized  foot  into  it. 

"  Angry  !  " 

The  glitter  in  her  eyes,  as  she  repeated  his 
word,  warned  him  that  his  intuition  was 
correct  ;  made  him  say  : 

"  Well— annoyed." 

"  You  are  so — so  provoking  !  " 

"  I  am  sorry " 

"No,  you  are  not !  You  are  not  sorry  a 
little  bit !  " 

"  Believe  me " 

"  If  you  were  sorry  for  your  rudeness " 

"  Rudeness  !  " 

"  Yes  !  " 

She  spoke  with  a  certain  tone  of  defiance ; 
her  anger  blinding  her  to  the  fitness  of  things — 
he  was  really  but  an  acquaintance ;  con- 
tinued : 

"  I  think  so.    Tell  me,  what  did  you  read  ?  " 

His  silence  incensed  her  more.  Tapping 
her  foot  impatiently  at  his  manifest  reluc- 
tance to  answer,  she  went  on : 

"  What  does  it  matter  ?  You  say  you  read 
the  exact  opposite  of  the  truth." 

"  If  you  insist- 

She  was  in  buckram  in  a  moment ;  pride 
stiffened  her.  Drawing  herself  up,  she  inter- 
rupted him ;  spoke  with  an  imperious  little 
gesture : 

E 


66  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  have  no  right  to  do  that.  I 
merely  asked." 

Miss  Miwins  rose  to  her  feet  :  a  woman's 
way  of  terminating  an  interview.  In  his 
sorrow — disappointment — once  more  he 
touched  her  hand  restrainingly. 

"  Please  sit  down." 

The  note  of  pleading  sounded  in  his  voice. 
Then — surely  his  good  angel  whispered  him 
which  line  to  strike  out — he  added  : 

"  Don't  go  yet.  You  are  right — I  was 
wrong." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

A  SOFT   GOOD   NIGHT 

MASTERS  took  his  stand  on  that  apology 
and  made  capital  out  of  it.  Miss 
Mi  wins  resumed  her  seat.  With  all  his 
ignorance  of  the  treatment  women  expected — 
out  of  books — he  had  acted  in  strict  conson- 
ance with  the  sex's  idea  of  the  fitness  of 
things. 

To  own  up  to  the  Tightness  of  the  woman 
you  are  talking  with,  and  your  own  wrong,  is 
as  oil  to  machinery.  It  is  an  almost  infallible 
way  of  worming  yourself  into  the  woman's 
good  graces  ;  rarely  fails.  Its  lack  of  truth 
is  compensated  for  by  its  success  :  the 
Jesuitical  theory  that  the  end  justifies  the 
means. 

"  Why  I  said  the  exact  opposite,  was 
because  in  your  hand  there  are  lines  " — he 
was  holding  her  hand  in  his  now  ;  holding  it 
tightly  as  if  he  did  not  want  it  to  slip  away 
again — "  which  signify  love  of  admiration — 


68  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

society — entertainment  —  jewels  —  riches  — 
luxury — noise — bustle  and  excitement." 

She  listened  to  the  catalogue  in  silence — 
save  for  the  eloquence  of  the  lashes  of  her 
eyes. 

"  And  if,"  she  queried  after  a  moment,  "  if 
I  confessed  to  all  that — that  you  had  read 
correctly — what  then  ?  " 

He  smiled,  so  certain  was  he  of  the  falsity 
of  his  catalogue  :  that  her  character  was  very 
different  from  his  delineation. 

"  At  the  risk  of  your  again  calling  me  rude," 
he  answered,  "  I  should  say  you  were  speaking 
falsely." 

"  Why  ?  " 

"  Because  in  Nature's  library  there  is  a 
more  truthful  book  to  read  than  that  of  the 
hand — the  face." 

She  started  ;  he  had  commenced  the  perusal 
of  what  he  referred  to.  Her  slight  blush  was 
hidden  ;  a  kindly  cloud  passed  over  the  moon 
at  the  moment. 

"  I  have  read  that  face  of  yours — read  it 
again  and  again.  I  read  it  each  time  I  see 
you,  I  read  it  even  when  I  do  not  see  you ; 
your  face  is  never  away  from  me  now." 

His  voice  had  grown  very  soft.  Having 
taken  his  courage  in  both  hands  he  made  the 
first  real  movement  in  their  little  comedy. 
There  followed  on  his  speech  a  slight  pause — 


A    SOFT   GOOD   NIGHT  69 

an  interval  filled  in,  as  it  were,  by  the  pro- 
vision of  accompanying  music  :  the  rippling 
surge. 

She  essayed  to  draw  her  hand  away — not 
putting  too  much  heart  in  the  attempt.  He 
needed  to  make  no  superhuman  effort  to  be 
successful  in  its  retention. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  are  the  cause  of 
my  destruction  of  three-fourths  of  a  story 
I  have  written  ?  " 

Her  astonishment  at  his  utterance  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  she  did  not  at  all  understand 
him. 

"I?    Why?" 

"  The  day  we  met  here — a  red-letter  day 
in  the  calendar  of  my  life — when  first  we  sat 
together  on  this  seat,  I  was  dissatisfied  with 
the  heroine  I  was  creating  :  she  was  not  good 
enough.  You  came  ;  I  put  you  in  my  book  ; 
put  you  in  the  place  of  the  creation  I  had  been 
dissatisfied  with — the  study  from  life  was  so 
much  better.  And  it  was  so  simple  ;  I  never 
had  to  wander  or  imagine  things  about  her. 
She  was  always — is  always — before  me." 

She  persisted  in  her  affected  disregard — a 
poor  sort  of  performance — of  the  meaning  in 
his  voice  ;  asked  : 

"  How  have  you  painted  her — me  ?  " 

"  Unsophisticated,  ingenuous,  frank,  guile- 
less. She  comes  into  the  life  of  a  man  who 


70  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

has  lived  away  from  women,  who  has  never 
believed  in  them,  never  wanted  to.  She 
makes  the  man  see  the  error  of  his  ways  ; 
leads  him  out  of  the  darkness  and  blackness 
of  his  night  into  the  brightness  of  her  day. 
She  becomes  his  sun." 

His  words,  the  manner  of  their  utterance, 
made  her  bosom  rise  and  fall.  The  deep 
earnestness  in  his  voice  would  have  moved  a 
much  harder  heart  than  hers. 

"  And  he  ?  " 

His  eyes  lighted  up  as,  in  reply  to  that 
question,  he  began  a  sort  of  description  of 
himself. 

"  He  thanks  God  for  the  light !  Lives  ! 
Lives !  Sees  things  in  life  he  never  saw 
before.  She  has  thrown  a  searchlight  on  the 
barrenness  of  his  solitude  :  shown  him  its 
poverty.  He  realizes  that  it  is  not  good  for 
man  to  live  alone." 

An  onlooker  just  then  would  have  imagined 
her  sole  object  in  life  to  be  the  boring  of  a 
hole  in  the  tarred  path.  She  was  watching 
her  toe  at  work  with  an  engrossment  of  the 
most,  apparently,  intense  kind. 

"  And  all  this — these  ideas — were  born  of 
my — our — chance  meetings  ?  " 

"Yes!  My  work  became  easier;  there 
was  no  labour.  Your  face  was  as  a  book  to 
me ;  an  open  book.  I  just  seemed  to  copy 


A    SOFT   GOOD   NIGHT  71 

from  it  what  was  written  there.  But  as  for 
chance — who  can  say  ?  Chance  is  but  unseen 
direction." 

The  caress  in  his  voice  made  itself  felt. 
Ignoring  the  latter  part  of  his  speech  she 
made  hurried  reply  : 

"  And  you  read  all  this  in  my  face  ?  My 
face  which  contradicts  my  hand  so  ?  " 

So  earnest  was  he,  that  he  grew  almost 
petulant  over  the  wilful  misunderstanding, 
her  changing  of  the  subject ;  said: 

"  Let  the  reading  of  the  hand  go.  I  am 
content  with  the  face." 

Looking  up,  she  realized  that  his  eager  eyes 
were  fixed  earnestly  on  her.  Saw  in  them  the 
smouldering  fire  waiting  for  the  smallest 
draught  to  lick  it  into  flame. 

"  Are  you  reading  it  now  ?  Don't  you 
know  " — with  a  nervous  little  laugh — "  that 
it  is  very  rude  to  stare  so  ?  " 

He  felt  reminded  of  the  action  of  an 
engine's  piston:  his  heart  was  pumping  so 
furiously. 

"  Don't,"  he  urged.  "  Please  don't  say  so. 
It  would  wipe  out  half  the  happiness  of  your 
presence  if " 

That  eagerness  of  his  must  be  checked ! 
There  was  no  knowing  how  far  it  would  lead  ! 
She  stepped  behind  the  lattice  of  conven- 
tionality. 


72  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  It  is  growing  late."  She  was  on  her  feet ; 
used  the  interview  terminator  again.  "  We 
must  be  returning." 

He  drew  in  his  breath;  was  so  afraid. 
Struggled  in  vain  to  control  his  rebellious 
pulse  ;  fancied  he  had  gone  too  far.  Tried 
to  retrace  his  steps  and  found — as  most  of  us 
do — walking  backwards  gracefully  to  be  a 
matter  difficult  of  performance. 

"  I  have  not  offended  you  by  speaking  as  I 
have  done,  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Offended !  " 

She  spoke  shortly.  Just  repeated  his  word, 
not  being  in  a  mood  for  the  making  of  long 
speeches  ;  added : 

"  Oh  no  !  .  .  .     Now  let  us  be  going." 

They  went.  Homeward  bound  the  conver- 
sation perched  on  stilts  ;  seemed  artificially 
out  of  reach ;  a  reserve  had  sprung  up 
between  them.  Both  were  making  obvious 
efforts  to  be  natural.  Masters  was  appre- 
ciative of  the  fact  that  his  own  were  a  sickly 
failure. 

At  her  gate  she  assumed  merriment ;  a 
transparent,  fraudulent  kind  of  mirth.  Said 
laughingly,  one  hand  on  the  latch,  the  other 
ready  to  place  in  his  : 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Prophet,  what  of  the 
morrow  ?  Think  you  will  it  hail,  rain,  wind 
or  snow  ?  " 


A    SOFT   GOOD   NIGHT  73 

It  was  not  infectious,  that  merriment  of 
hers.  She  had  fallen  on  the  first  subject  in 
Valapuk :  the  weather.  Staple  of  English 
intercourse,  how  many  can  deny  it  a  debt  of 
gratitude  ?  Common  ground — a  national 
/heritage  whereon  we  can  disport  ourselves 
at  ease. 

"  Rain,  I  am  afraid."  He  looked  round. 
"  Those  banks  of  clouds  augur  badly." 

"  You  are  not  a  comforting  sort  of  prophet ! 
Assumption  of  your  correctness  means  con- 
finement to  the  house  all  day." 

"  Yes." 

He  looked  at  her  as  he  answered.  The 
glance  made  it  hardly  a  laconic  reply  .  .  . 
She  stretched  out  her  hand.  With  the  light 
in  her  forget-me-not  eyes  full  on,  said  : 

"  Good-bye." 

Taking  her  hand — his  retention  of  it  was 
for  a  period  considerably  longer  than  is  con- 
sidered quite  good  form  in  Mayfair — he 
asked : 

"  If  a  wet  day — to-morrow,  you  know — I 
shall  not  see  you  at  all,  shall  I  ?  " 

Those  eloquent  lashes  of  hers  helped  her 
speech  as  she  replied  : 

"  It  may  clear  in  the  evening,  as  it  did 
to-day.  I  may  not  take  Gracie  out  in  the 
damp.  But,  unless  it  rains,  I  shall  take  my 
own  walk  in  the  evening." 


74  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Even  a  smaller  mercy  would  have  made  him 
thankful.  He  enquired  eagerly : 

"  At  eight  o'clock  ?  " 

The  fringes  lifted,  giving  him  what  he 
extravagantly  labelled  a  glimpse  of  Heaven. 
In  the  moonlight  he  saw  all  the  glory  of  her 
eyes,  as  she  answered  : 

"  Yes." 

He  had  never  thought  it  possible  that  room 
could  be  found  for  so  delightful  a  tone  in  a 
woman's  voice,  as  was  in  Miss  Miwins* 
utterance  of  that  one-syllable  word. 

"If  you  should  find  me  walking  on  the 
parade  at  that  time,"  he  suggested,  "  you — 
you  would  not  be  displeased  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  again.  What  she  read 
prompted  her  to  think  him  deserving  some 
little  reward.  Casting  her  eyes  down  to  her 
hand,  which  he  was  still  holding,  and  lowering 
her  voice  too,  till  it  was  almost  a  half- whisper, 
she  said : 

"  What — what  would  you  think  if  I  said 
that- 

She  hesitated — stopped.  Quite  eagerly  he 
endeavoured  to  help  her  on  ;  interjected  : 

"  Yes  ?  " 

"  That  I  might  be  disappointed  if  I  did  not 
see  you  ?  " 

The  sigh  he  drew  was  of  a  plumbless  nature. 
He  answered,  his  soul  in  his  utterance  : 


A    SOFT   GOOD   NIGHT  75 

"  You  will  not  be  disappointed." 

The  sweetest  of  sweet  tones,  speaking  in  the 
low,  tremulous  voice  which  may  say  so  little 
but  mean  so  much  : 

"  Good-night !  " 

A  grip  of  her  hand  that  almost  hurt  her ; 
a  light  in  his  eyes  which  had  never  found  place 
there  before,  and  he  echoed  her  final  words  : 

"  Good-night !  " 

Softness  in  both  their  voices,  in  their  whole 
manner.  A  reciprocated  hand  pressure. 

So  they  parted. 


CHAPTER   IX 

OVER  THE   GARDEN   WALL 

MISS  MI  WINS  was  very  full  of  thought 
of  the  man  who  had  left  her  ;  he  was 
full  to  the  point  of  over-brimming  of  thought 
of  her.  They  were  soulful  thoughts,  which 
lasted  them  both  till  sleep  closed  the  windows 
of  their  souls. 

In  the  case  of  the  man  the  eyelids  remained 
wide  open  till  the  grey  dawn  flushed  rosily 
before  the  rising  sun.  Even  then  he  dreamt : 
of  her. 

Later,  when  he  awoke,  it  was  evident  that 
a  halo  of  success  would  surround  his  weather 
prophecy.  His  prediction  of  wet  turned  out 
correct :  it  rained  nearly  all  day.  But  Cupid 
must  have  bribed  Pluvius  ;  the  rain  ceased  to 
fall  as  the  grey  of  evening  closed  down  on  the 
day. 

Then  they  met  again.  It  was  a  walk  only  ; 
a  walk  up  and  down  the  front.  She  did  not 
feel  equal  to  trusting  herself  on  that  seat 
again.  Did  not  trust  him — or  herself. 


OVER    THE   GARDEN   WALL  77 

A  moonlight  night,  a  murmuring  sea  and  a 
man  with  eyes  of  greater  eloquence  than  his 
tongue  possessed— decidedly  she  thought  it 
was  best  to  avoid  sitting  down. 

Miss  Mivvins  did  not  altogether  seem  her- 
self ;  was  nothing  like  so  bright  as  she  had 
been  before.  The  sweet  mouth  never  parted 
in  laughter  once  during  all  the  walk.  It  was 
a  new  mood  to  him ;  one  in  which  he  could 
find  no  pleasantness. 

He  taxed  her  with  it  ;  something  was 
worrying  her.  He  would  have  liked  to  plainly 
ask  what,  that  he  might  lighten  or  at  least 
share  the  trouble.  She,  not  admitting  it, 
endeavoured  to  shake  off  the  depression. 

As  their  good-byes  were  uttered,  he  exhi- 
bited a  surprising  fertility  in  the  invention  of 
hints  of  meetings  again.  She,  for  reasons 
known  to  herself,  did  not  take  them. 

The  weather  afforded  her  a  shield  ;  she 
switched  the  conversation  on  to  that.  Clouds 
were  shaping  ominously  ;  there  was  a  prospect 
of  more  foul  weather  on  the  breaking  of  the 
morrow.  So  was  avoided  any  open  reference 
to  another  evening  walk  when  they  parted. 

Clouds,  of  another  kind,  seemed  to  envelop 
him.  He  had  counted  so  on  the  meeting  ; 
had  watched  the  ticking  away  of  the  hours 
till  the  fall  of  eventide  :  and  after,  till  eight 
o'clock  came. 


78  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

All  the  warmth  of  the  previous  evening,  all 
his  delicious  anticipation,  was  eclipsed  by  the 
frigidity  of  to-night.  He  felt  like  one  for 
whom  the  sun  has  set  while  it  is  yet  day. 

He  worried  himself  to  the  point  of  haggard- 
ness  :  being  a  man  possessed  of  strong 
emotions.  Walked  home  mind-laden  with 
fear  that  he  had  done  or  said  something  to 
offend  her.  Racking  his  brain,  yet  failed  to 
find  a  record  ;  could  not  imagine  what  had 
been  his  sin. 

His  slumber  was  not  of  the  peaceful  kind. 
Although  his  dreams  were  of  her — the  woman 
his  waking  thoughts  were  so  full  of — they 
were  not  of  the  pleasant  kind  of  yesternight. 
Again,  too,  he  saw  the  red  fringe  in  the  east 
grow  into  dawn  before  he  slept. 

A  warm,  drizzling  rainy  day  ;  so  he  found 
the  weather  on  awaking.  So  warm  that  at 
breakfast  he  had  his  window  open  ;  his  land- 
lady referred  to  the  condition  of  things  as 
being  muggy.  That  was  not  the  only  speech 
of  hers  he  heard  that  morning. 

The  proverb  about  listeners  and  the  good 
things  they  hear  occurred  to  him.  By  reason 
of  the  open  window  he  was  unable  to  avoid 
overhearing  a  conversation.  It  was  carried 
on  between  the  next  door  landlady  and  his 
own. 

Masters  would  have  scorned  a  suggestion  of 


OVER    THE   GARDEN   WALL  79 

eavesdropping.  He  was  aroused  from  the 
depths  of  the  morning  paper,  in  the  columns 
of  which  he  was  immersed,  by  hearing  his  own 
name  spoken.  That  is  usually  a  call  to 
attention  to  most  of  us.  The  voice  of  the 
neighbour  reached  him : 

"  Yes.  My  Liza  saw  'em  walking  together, 
so  to  speak.  Lord,  'e  don't  look  a  gent  like 
that,  do  'e  ?  But  you  never  know,  do  you  ? 
As  I  was  only  sayin'  to  Mrs.  Robinson  this 
very  mornin',  quiet  ones  is  always  the  wust. 
She's  a  *ot  lot,  and  no  mistake  !  " 

"  Are  you  sure  it  was  my  lodger  ?  " 

The  inquiry  was  from  his  own  landlady. 
He  recognized  her  voice,  low  pitched  as  it 
was  :  there  were  top  notes  in  it  she  could 
never  eliminate.  The  answer  came  over  the 
garden  wall : 

"  My  Liza  ain't  a  fool,  I  give  you  my  word  ! 
There,  as  I  says,  you  never  know,  do  you  ? 
It  don't  always  do  to  judge  by  'pearances. 
Your  ground  floor  looks  as  if  butter  wouldn't 
melt  in  his  mouth,  as  the  sayin'  is.  But  she — 
there  !  You  can  tell  with  'alf-an-eye  what 
she  is." 

"  Yes.  I  s'pose  there  ain't  no  mistake 
about  that.  Fine  feathers  don't  always  make 
fine  birds." 

"  She's  going  about,  in  a  manner  of  speaking, 
plainly  dressed  too,  just  now.  Ev  you  noticed 


80  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

it  ?  I  see  her  with  my  own  eyes  in  Juggins* 
shop  without  a  single  ring  on  her  finger  !  She 
as  used  to  ev  a  'alf-dozen  sparkling  di'monds 
on  each  'and." 

"  Pawned  'em,  perhaps." 

"  No  fear  !  She  knows  your  lodger's  well- 
to-do,  and  she's  working  'im  for  all  'es  wuth, 
as  the  sayin'  is.  Lor  !  She's  up  to  snuff,  I 
can  tell  you.  As  I  was  sayin'  to  Mrs.  Smith, 
them  kind  of  women  is  up  to  every  thing." 

A  voice,  presumably  the  tones  of  the  afore- 
mentioned Liza,  broke  in.  The  next  door 
neighbour  was  being  called ;  some  one  was 
enquiring  about  lodgings.  The  conversation 
ended  with  the  suddenness  of  an  eye's 
twinkling. 

Little  as  Masters  had  heard,  he  was  the 
whole  day  trying  to  digest  it.  Material  for 
thought  was  there  :  a  pregnancy  of  horrible 
suggestions. 

As  to  his  work,  he  did  not  write  a  line  ; 
could  not  read  a  paragraph.  After  the  manner 
of  a  caged  beast  walked  up  and  down  the 
room.  When  at  last  he  sat,  sheer  exhaustion 
was  the  compelling  force. 

His  mid-day  meal  was  turned  over  on  his 
plate  ;  any  idea  of  ( a  ing  it  was  out  of  the 
question ;  it  was  taken  away  practically 
untouched.  He  had  no  room  for  physical 
food  ;  he  was  so  very  full  just  then  of  mental 


OVER    THE   GARDEN   WALL  Si 

provender.  One  dominating  thought  reigned 
over  all  others.  What  should — what  could 
he  do  ? 

His  habit  was  to  drink  a  cup  of  tea  in  the 
early  afternoon.  His  landlady  entered  bear- 
ing a  little  tray.  Whilst  she  was  spreading 
its  contents,  the  thoughts  consuming  him 
found  vent.  He  said  : 

"  Don't  go  away — for  a  moment.  I  want 
to  ask  you  something." 

"  Yes,  sir  ?  " 

"  You  know  Ivy  Cottage — on  the  front  ? 
Do  you  know  who  lives  there  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  before 
answering.  An  autumn  bird  needs  careful 
handling  ;  if  it  takes  flight  the  nest  remains 
empty  till  the  following  summer.  She  passed 
her  tongue  over  the  thin  lips  which  framed  it ; 
said  warily : 

"  No,  sir.  That  is  to  say,  not  their  present 
names." 

Memory's  finger  pointed  out  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  morning  over  the  garden  wall ; 
this  woman's  share  in  it.  He  knew  she  was 
lying.  His  anger  against  things  in  general 
was  smouldering ;  something  to  let  it  loose 
on  would  be  a  relief.  Why  this  deceit  and 
mystery  ? 

The  wisdom  of  keeping  his  foot  on  the 
brake  was  known  to  him.  He  was  wise 


82  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

enough,  too,  to  grasp  the  fact  that  a  man  in  a 
temper  weakens  his  armour.  There  was 
battle  to  be  done  ;  he  meant  having  it  out 
before  the  woman  left  his  room. 

"  Is  that  altogether  correct  ?  "  he  inquired. 
"  Surely  you  must,  living  in  this  place,  have 
heard  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  " 

Exclamation  with  a  vinegary  shake  of 
her  head.  She  was  standing  now  with  her 
mittened  hands  crossed,  prepared  evidently 
for  a  long  talk  ;  continued  : 

"  We  hear  plenty  about  them,  sir  !  " 

"  You  know  the  master  of  the  house  ?  '* 

"  Not  the  present  one,  sir — if  there  is  one 
just  now  !  " 

In  shaping  the  deep  lines  round  her  mouth 
his  satanic  majesty  had  surely  held  the 
graver  !  Masters  thought  the  meaning  smile 
with  which  she  let  loose  the  innuendo  posi- 
tively hideous  in  its  suggestiveness.  His 
inflammable  emotions  rendered  it  difficult  for 
him  to  get  proper  control  of  his  voice  as  he 
enquired  : 

"  The  mistress,  then  ?  " 

Impatience  in  the  tone  of  his  voice.  He 
had  hoped  to  elicit  replies  without  this  direct 
inquiry.  Felt  ashamed  of  himself  the  while 
he  probed.  It  was  not  a  feeling  the  woman 
shared.  She  answered  : 


OVER   THE   GARDEN   WALL          83 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir." 

The  readiness  of  her  answer  was  apparent. 
She  was  the  kind  of  woman  to  whom  slander 
was  a  dainty  morsel  to  be  tongue-rolled.  Her 
own  tongue  became  as  the  pen  of  a  ready 
writer.  It  sickened  the  questioner,  but  he ' 
continued  : 

"  And  the  governess  ?  " 

Vigorous  shaking  of  the  woman's  head 
again.  In  the  same  redolent-of-sourness  style, 
too,  as  she  answered  : 

"  There  is  no  governess  there,  sir.  The 
only  servints  is  the  cook  and  'ousemaid  and 
the  odd  boy." 

He  knew  that  to  be  a  lie  !  Hope,  that  he 
had  thought  entombed,  rose  again.  One 
thing  incorrect,  why  not  all  ?  He  said 
sharply  : 

"  You  are  mistaken  ! >J 

"  I  don't  think  so,  sir." 

Again  that  hideous  smile.  Accompanied 
this  time  by  a  pitying  expression  ;  pity  for  his 
simplicity  !  He  was  like  the  generality  of 
men — writhed  under  pity.  It  acted  on  him 
with  the  irritation  of  a  rasp.  He,  however, 
controlled  himself  sufficiently  to  enquire : 

"  A  tall,  fair,  blue-eyed  young  lady  ?  " 

The  description  elicited  a  second  edition  of 
the,  pity — third  of  the  head  shaking — as  the 
woman  answered  : 


84  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  That's  the  mistress,  sir." 

It  is  difficult  to  keep  a  watchful  eye  ever  on 
the  safety  valve.  The  indignation  within 
him  was  seething  to  boiling  point.  He  was 
getting  up  steam  so  rapidly  as  to  create  the 
impression  that  his  emotions  were  arranged 
on  the  principle  of  the  tubular  boiler.  He 
blurted  out : 

"  I  tell  you,  you  are  wrong  !  Her  name  is 
Miss  Mi  wins  !  " 

Combination  of  every  unpleasant  wrinkle 
that  the  human  face  is  capable  of  assuming, 
as  she  replied,  with  the  incisiveness  of  a 
knife  cut  : 

"  Very  likely  that's  one  of  her  names,  sir  ! 
Now  I  come  to  remember,  I  did  once  in  a 
shop  'ear  her  called  so — called  so  by  her  own 
child." 

That  was  the  last  straw !  the  safety  valve 
was  discarded.  He  blurted  out : 

"  Her— own— child  !  " 

"  Yes.  The  little  girl  who's  always  with 
her.  The  one  with  the  carity  'air  as  some 
people  calls  orebin." 

Amazement !  Consternation  !  Disappoint- 
ment !  A  combination  of  these  feelings,  and 
many  other  indescribable  ones,  made  him 
break  out  with  : 

"  Then — then  she  is  married  ?  " 

All  the  subtle  devilish  suggestions  in  her 


OVER   THE   GARDEN   WALL          85 

came  to  the  surface.  To  emphasize  the 
point  of  her  answer,  slow  head-shaking  was 
necessary  : 

"  I  couldn't  say  as  to  thet,  sir." 

She  smiled  too  that  horrible  smile  again  ! 
The  desire  to  speak  evil  of  others  assails  some 
natures  irresistibly.  She  really  could  not 
resist — October  lodger  or  no  lodger. 

"  Thank  you.     That  will  do." 

He  managed  to  dismiss  her  so,  and  the 
landlady  left  the  room.  She  was  fearful  of 
having  gone  a  little  too  far ;  yet  was  filled 
with  the  complacency  with  which  such 
utterances — to  such  natures — is  fruitful. 

Yes,  he  was  alone — but  such  a  loneliness  ! 


CHAPTER  X 

THE   LITTLE   WINGED   GOD 

THE  closing  of  the  door  behind  his  land- 
lady was  unheard  by  Masters.  He 
did  not  move  from  the  position  in  which  the 
woman  had  left  him  for  many,  very  many 
minutes. 

When  at  last  he  rose,  lifting  his  head,  he 
caught  sight  of  his  own  reflection  in  the 
mirror.  Started  back,  almost  cried  out : 
there  was  such  a  deathly  pallor  covering  his 
face 

His  mouth  felt  as  parched  as  Sahara. 
Mechanically  he  mixed  a  whisky  and  soda  : 
drank  it  off.  Then  laughed.  Not  a  pleasant 
mirth  ;  one  of  those  built  up  on  a  sob. 

Then  self-raillery  :  the  old,  old,  ever 
sought  useless  salve.  What  a  fool !  What 
a  fool  he  was  to  care  !  A  woman !  Just  as 
he  had  always  pictured  them — always  till 
the  book  he  was  now  engaged  on.  When  he 


THE   LITTLE   WINGED   GOD          87 

thought  how  chaste  and  good  and  pure  his 
last  heroine  was,  on  paper,  he  laughed 
again.  The  same  laugh;  with  the  same 
choking  painful  little  catch-in-the-throat  in  it 
too. 

He  thought  he  had  lost  his  ideals  long  ago  ; 
we  are  apt  to  flatter  ourselves  so.  But  their 
death  is  hard  ;  they  live  on — unknown  even 
to  ourselves — to  appear  before  us  like  some 
new  star  of  whose  existence  we  know  nothing. 
Make  it  our  guiding  star,  and  we  are — when 
it  sinks  below  the  horizon  of  fate — as  children 
crying  in  the  night. 

The  mantel  clock  chimed  seven  times. 
Masters'  attention  was  thereby  drawn  to  the 
fact  that  it  was  half-past  that  hour.  Lodg- 
ing-house clocks  are  not  without  their  pecu- 
liarities ;  the  fulfilled  ambition  of  this  par- 
ticular one  was  to  be  half-an-hour  behind 
time. 

Masters  started,  too,  at  the  sound.  Memory 
of  his  neglected  work  came  to  him.  Lying 
on  his  desk  was  a  bundle  of  corrected  galley 
proofs,  which  should  have  been  posted  to  his 
publisher.  Now  it  was  too  late  :  the  post 
bag  would  be  made  up. 

He  was  annoyed  that  he  had  allowed  the 
incident — he  was  miserably  failing  in  trying 
to  label  it  so  to  himself — to  interrupt  the 
routine  of  his  work.  Another  glance  at  the 


88  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

clock  and  he  kicked  off  his  slippers  and  horned 
on  his  shoes. 

Putting  on  a  cap,  fastening  his  greatcoat 
as  he  went,  he  hurried  railway  stationwards. 
For  all  the  thickness  of  his  coat  he  was  not 
warm.  There  was  a  coldness  around  his 
heart  as  if  it  were  icebound. 

The  last  up-train  left  at  eight  o'clock. 
In  October  the  passengers  made  no  great 
demand  on  the  guard's  attention  ;  in  the 
season  he  might  have  been,  with  justness, 
likened  to  a  sardine  packer.  Entrustment 
of  the  bundle  of  proofs,  to  be  posted  by  the 
railway  man  on  arrival  in  London,  was  an 
easily  arranged  matter. 

Crossing  the  hand  with  a  piece  of  silver 
is  as  effective  with  the  average  guard  as  it  is 
with  a  gipsy  :  the  oracle  is  worked  thereby. 
The  proofs  would  reach  the  publisher  by  first 
post  in  the  morning. 

Masters  had  effected  this  arrangement  by 
five  minutes  to  eight ;  five  minutes  before 
the  scheduled  time  for  the  train's  departure 
for  London.  Having  lighted  a  cigar  in  the 
shelter  of  the  waiting-room  doorway,  he 
buttoned  up  his  coat,  prepared  for  his  return 
walk  home. 

As — buttoned  up,  cigar  in  mouth — he 
emerged  from  the  station's  precincts,  he  could 
not  fail  to  observe  the  lights  in  the  back 


THE   LITTLE    WINGED   GOD  89 

windows  of  Ivy  Cottage.  The  bungalow 
stood  not  three  minutes'  walk  away. 

That  he  should  have  avoided,  he  knew ; 
but  the  night  was  dark ;  he  would  not  be 
seen.  Moreover,  he  was  in  no  way  different 
from  other  moths  who  ever  flutter  round 
candles. 

So,  more  or  less  unconsciously,  he  was 
attracted ;  slowly  walked  in  the  direction 
of  the  light.  The  little  god  with  wings  is  as 
experienced  in  the  use  of  the  magnet  as  the 
dart. 

The  corner  of  the  road,  which  the  rear  of 
the  house  faced,  was  reached.  Suddenly  the 
back  door  of  the  house  was  opened.  By 
the  light  in  the  passage  behind  he  saw  a  man 
and  a  woman  silhouetted  in  the  door-frame, 
evidently  engaged  in  actions  of  a  farewell. 

The  woman  had  her  arms  lovingly  round 
the  man's  neck.  She  fervently  kissed  him — 
his  lips — again  and  again.  Her  sorrow  at 
the  parting  was  apparently  of  the  deepest 
kind  ;  at  times  she  applied  her  handkerchief 
to  her  eyes.  Not  a  detail  of  the  incident 
escaped  the  attention  of  the  man  in  the 
road. 

Masters  stood  quite  still  watching  them. 
Not  an  act  due  to  ill-breeding  :  he  was  for 
the  moment  simply  incapable  of  movement. 
Had  his  existence  depended  on  a  forward 


90  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

step,  Death  would  have  added  another  name 
to  his  list. 

The  couple  came  out  in  the  garden ; 
walked  towards  the  gate.  The  path  led 
straight  from  the  door  ;  the  hall  lamp  still 
showed  him  the  positions :  the  woman's 
arms  clinging  around  the  man. 

It  was  well  he  stood  in  the  shadow  on  that 
road  ;  well  that  they  were  so  occupied  as  to 
prevent  their  noticing  him.  Perhaps  the 
iron  that  had  entered  into  his  soul  travelled 
via  his  face.  That  would  account  for  the 
seared  look  on  it.  It  was  as  the  face  of  the 
dead. 

So  different.  Ah !  So  different  had  he 
thought  her.  Had  linked  up,  in  his  mind, 
the  purity  of  the  snow  in  connexion  with 
her.  This  was  the  woman  he  had  pictured ; 
who  was  ever  so  before  him  that  his  pen 
seemed  animated  when  he  handled  it  to 
describe  her. 

His  thoughts — edged  with  keen  bitterness 
and  self-contempt — went  back  to  the  pure, 
guileless  heroine  in  his  book.  Had  he  been 
capable  of  laughter  at  himself,  for  being  a 
fool,  his  mirth  would  have  been  of  the  great- 
est heartiness  just  then. 

The  couple  at  the  gate  parted  ;  the  watcher 
was  not  very  clear  how.  What  followed 
being — by  reason  of  a  sort  of  indescribable 


THE   LITTLE   WINGED   GOD          91 

veil  or  mist  which  enveloped  him — blurred, 
almost  hidden  from  him.  Dazed  as  was  his 
condition,  he  was  cognizant  that  the  man 
crossed  the  road,  ran  past  up  the  pathway 
to  the  station.  Then  came  the  sound  of  a 
whistle,  followed  by  the  rumbling  of  the 
departing  train. 

Footsteps  !  He  knew  them — short  as  had 
been  his  acquaintance  with  them — along  the 
gravel  path  ;  then  the  door  of  Ivy  Cottage 
was  shut.  The  blackness  of  the  night  could 
not  have  been  heavier  than  the  thoughts 
he  was  alone  with.  Ideas  of  things  seemed 
to  grow  more  entangled  and  confused  every 
instant. 

From  the  moment  that  he  had  despatched 
his  parcel,  he  had  been  mentally  accusing 
himself  of  folly  of  the  highest  class.  Did  so 
whilst  lighting  his  cigar  and  on  the  way  from 
the  booking  office — with  the  back  of  Ivy 
Cottage  fronting  him.  Why  had  he  believed 
those  wretched  over-the-wall  gossips,  when 
there  was  the  face — those  soulful  eyes — of 
the  woman  herself  to  look  into  ? 

That  he  had  listened  to  and  questioned 
his  landlady  was  an  insult  to  the  woman 
of  whom  his  mind  was  so  full.  He  knew  how 
those  glorious,  plumbless  blue  eyes  of  hers 
would  flash  contempt  for  him  did  she  but 
know :  she  must  never  know !  Standing 


92  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

there — near  the  house  which  enshrined  what 
he  thought  the  dearest  and  best  in  the  world 
— he  almost  cursed  himself.  For  his  folly  in 
doubting  her.  His  future  faith  should  obli- 
terate the  memory  of  that  moment. 

Then — then  the  back  door  had  opened  ! 
It  was  a  shock  ;  a  horrible  shock.  But  there 
was  confirmation  of  what  he  had  been  told. 
The  scales  fell  from  his  eyes. 

Minutes — they  seemed  to  him  centuries — 
passed.  The  mist  before  his  eyes  cleared 
away  ;  the  veiling  disappeared.  But  he  felt 
that  it  would  not  be  a  display  of  wisdom  to 
turn  homewards,  just  yet. 

Masters  was  a  sensitive — hyper-sensitive  is 
perhaps  a  better  word — man.  To  rub  up 
against  inquiries  from  a  garrulous  landlady 
as  to  his  health  would  prove  more  irritating 
than  sand  paper.  He  knew  that  his  appear- 
ance would  provoke  comment ;  felt  how  he 
looked ;  determined  to  try  and  walk  the 
look  off. 

By  setting  his  face  eastward,  continuing 
on  the  station  road  for  a  mile  or  so,  he  would 
come  out  on  the  shore  at  what  was  known 
as  The  Gap.  By  walking  along  the  sands 
therefrom,  past  the  private  owner's  wall,  he 
would  be  able  to  mount  to  the  parade  by  the 
steps  which  faced  his  seat. 

Lips   tightened   and   his   fingers   clenched 


THE   LITTLE    WINGED    GOD          93 

when  he  remembered  the  reference  to  this 
as  "  our "  seat.  The  walk  would  do  him 
good  ;  he  laughed  a  little  at  that  last  idea. 
As  if,  he  thought,  anything  in  the  whole  world 
would  ever  do  him  any  good  again  ! 

Shaken  faith  is  a  wound  that  smarts 
acutely  ;  the  only  surgeon  able  to  apply  a 
salve  is  Time. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   VOICE   IN   THE    DARKNESS 

IT  was  a  fitful  night ;  one  on  which  the 
clouds  travelled  swiftly.  One  moment 
the  brightness  of  a  silvering  moon  ;  the  next 
comparative  darkness.  When  the  extin- 
guishers hid  the  lamp  of  night,  the  illumina- 
tion of  the  heavens  was  left  to  the  stars. 

There  was  sufficient  light  for  Masters  to 
find  his  way  over  the  breakwaters  without 
stumbling.  At  times,  though,  despite  the 
brightness  of  the  moon,  his  eyes  saw  dimly. 
With  a  swiftness  bred  of  anger  he  knuckled 
the  dimness  away,  cursing  his  own  irrepres- 
sible folly  the  while. 

His  heart — soul — was  full  to  bursting  point. 
If  he  could  only  laugh,  he  thought ;  only 
laugh  at  himself !  What  an  immense,  great 
big  thing  it  would  be  ! 

Walking,  smart  walking,  was  the  only 
relief  he  experienced  ;  physical  exertion  was 
reputedly  an  antidote  to  mental  excitement. 
He  felt  sufficient  energy  to  have  moved  on 


THE    VOICE   IN   THE   DARKNESS     95 

indefinitely.  Wished  he  could  walk  on  till 
he  fell  from  exhaustion.  In  that  there  would 
have  been  satisfaction  ;  rest,  at  any  rate. 
Rest  from  that  tumultuous  tide  of  recrimin- 
ation surging  in  his  brain. 

His  anger  was  directed  against  himself ; 
no  one  else.  It  upsprung  from  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  such  a  fool,  such  an  utter, 
absolute  fool,  as  to  be  gulled  by  a  woman  ! 
Scoffingly  he  told  himself  that  anger  against 
her  would  be  unfair  ;  that  her  behaviour 
had  been  merely  typical  of  her  sex  ! 

He,  who  had  ever  with  his  pen  written 
against  womankind — until  at  last  reviewers 
had  spoken  of  his  work  as  being  that  of  a 
woman-hater — to  have  fallen  such  an  easy 
victim  to  the  first  siren  who  spread  her  snare 
for  him !  The  thought  was  fuel  to  the 
maddening  fever  in  possession  of  him. 

Then  came  before  him  her  face  ;  those 
sweet,  eloquent,  soulful  eyes !  Well,  he 
endeavoured  to  comfort  himself  with  the 
thought  that  any  man  would  have  fallen  a 
victim  as  he  had  done.  The  amount  of 
comfort  in  it,  though,  would  have  found 
resting-place  on  a  needle's  point. 

There  was  an  underlying  reason  for  the 
failure.  Granted  that  his  ideal  was  shat- 
tered, fce  still  loved  its  ruins.  Therein  lay 
the  hopelessness  of  it  all — and  he  knew  it. 


96  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Striding  on,  he  savagely  kicked  out  of  his 
way,  now  and  then,  a  stone.  Poor  sort  of 
relief  again. 

The  configuration  of  the  coast  line  brought 
him  to  an  abrupt  standstill.  The  cliff,  jut- 
ting out,  was  met  by  a  barrier  of  high  rocks. 
These  latter  were  overgrown  with  seaweed 
of  the  slipperiest  sort  :  defiance  bidding. 
Nature's  sudden  intervention  in  his  proceed- 
ings produced  a  corresponding  interruption 
in  his  thoughts. 

Why  should  he  think  about  this  woman 
any  longer  ?  She  was  not  worth  wasting 
thought  over.  He  had  been  happy  enough 
without  her — before  he  knew  her.  So  he 
would  be  happy  without  her  still. 

Cut  the  thought  of  her  clean  out  of  his 
mind ;  out  of  his  heart.  That,  he  told 
himself,  was  the  correct  thing  to  do.  Life 
should  be  for  him  as  if  he  had  never  seen  her, 
never  looked  into  the  unfathomable  depths 
of  those  forget-me-not  eyes.  It  would  be 
quite  easy ;  a  little  effort  of  will  was  needed 
— that  was  all. 

All  that  he  meant ;  every  word  of  it. 
Framed  a  resolution  that  he  looked  on  as 
adamantine.  But  he  ignored  an  important 
factor ;  made  no  allowance  for  the  strange 
vitality  of  that  prolific  pure  white  flower  : 
Love. 


THE    VOICE  IN   THE  DARKNESS     97 

The  axe  of  common  sense  may  be  laid  to 
the  root  of  the  tree  ;  may  cut  it  down  root 
and  branch.  Still  one  small  remaining  ten- 
dril, hidden  from  the  sight,  will  work  its  way 
into  the  heart ;  spread  and  grow  until  in 
its  magnitude  it  overshadows  every  other 
thought.  Such  is  love. 

Masters  reached  the  steps  which  led  up 
from  the  sands  to  the  seat.  Standing  at 
their  base,  he  looked  away  in  the  direction 
of  the  sea.  It  was  easy  to  mark  the  spot 
where  Gracie  had  worked  so  hard  with  spade 
and  pail. 

He  thought  of  the  child  with  a  pang  of 
pity.  For  his  heart  had  gone  out  to  her ; 
he  had  been  captivated  by  her  loving,  winsome 
ways.  Even  now  his  eyes  rested  on  where 
Gracie  had  built  her  last  castle.  He  could 
mentally  see  her  gleesomely  watching  the 
waters  overflowing  the  moat  and  gradually 
sweeping  down  the  castle's  inverted  pail- 
shaped  turrets. 

Gracie  !  Poor  little  soul !  And  so  she, 
whom  he  had  mistaken  for  the  governess — 
this  woman — was  the  mother  of  that  incar- 
nation of  innocence  and  purity  !  What  of 
the  child's  future  ?  He  shuddered  to  think 
of  it ;  it  was  horrible  ;  all  horrible  in  the 
extreme. 

Well,  he  would  go  home  to  his  lodgings. 

G 


^8  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

First  he  would  look  again — for  the  last  time — 
on  that  portion  of  the  sands.  For  he  felt 
that  he  would  never  be  able  to  come  there 
again.  He  would  have  been  thankful  for 
a  breeze  just  then  :  his  brow  was  feeling  so 
fevered. 

Perhaps  there  was  more  air  on  the  sea- 
wall ;  he  would  test  it,  pass  up  the  steps. 
There  was  the  seat  to  avoid  looking  at ;  the 
seat  whereon  they  had  both  sat  reading — 
heart  reading  heart.  Where  had  been  born 
to  him  the  happiest  moment  in  life  :  love's 
awakening. 

There  was  other  history  about  the  seat 
too  :  pencil  created.  Thereon,  before  that 
meeting,  had  been  born  heroes  and  heroines, 
wicked  men  and  wicked  women.  All  to  be 
bound  together  and  pressed  between  covers 
later  on,  to  gladden  or  sadden  readers' 
hearts. 

Living  a  romance  is  less  alluring  than 
writing  one  :  Masters  found  it  so.  He  had 
been  wont  to  believe  in  the  parts  he  cast 
his  characters  for.  He  was  learning ! 

Stumbling  up  the  steps  on  to  the  wall, 
he  started  to  walk  home.  But  he  halted, 
suddenly,  before  he  had  taken  half-a-dozen 
paces.  No  drill  sergeant's  command  ever 
brought  up  an  absent-minded  beggar  on 
parade  as  did  the  words  which  fell  on  his  ear. 


THE    VOICE   IN   THE   DARKNESS     99 

"  I  thought  that  was  you,  Mr.  Masters  !  " 

Her  voice  !  The  voice  of  his  shattered 
idol !  The  same  voice  :  just  as  fresh  and  soft 
and  kind  as  ever  !  Her  voice,  speaking  to  him  ! 
Could  it  be  ?  Or  was  it  a  dream  simply,  a 
chimera  of  his  brain  ?  Or  was  this  voice — 
this  voice  ringing,  singing  in  his  ears  now — 
the  result  of  his  highly  fevered  imagination 
only  ? 

He  feared  to  turn  his  head  to  see.  To 
know  whether  it  was  in  reality  the  woman 
for  whom  he  had  been  ready  to  lay  down  his 
life — whom  he  had  considered  a  princess 
among  women  ;  chaste,  pure,  modest ;  whose 
dethronation  had  been  so  recent.  Whom  he 
had  come  to  think  of  as  soiled. 

Yes  !  She  was  there  before  him  in  the 
flesh  !  This  perfidious  parody  of  perfection, 
this  transmuted  ideal.  He  waited  for  a 
moment  motionless  ;  then  raised  his  cap — 
a  merely  mechanical  act. 

Besides,  being  a  woman,  whatever  else  she 
might  be,  she  was  exempt  from  rudeness  at 
his  hands. 

Her  sex  protected  her. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MISUNDERSTANDINGS 

RENT  you  going  to  sit  on  Our  Seat  ? 
Or  don't  you  need  a  rest  ?  " 

It  was  said  archly  ;  the  significant  reference 
to  Our  Seat,  subtly  conveyed.  She  seemed 
to  have  shaken  off  the  depression  of  yester- 
day. Was  herself ;  her  own  blithe,  bright 
self  again. 

Mechanically  Masters  accepted  the  implied 
invitation ;  sat.  There  ensued  silence ;  a 
silence  which  told  more  than  speech.  Not 
the  silence  which  breathes  of  sweet  accord 
between  two  understanding  hearts. 

She,  on  her  part,  was  filled  with  wonder — 
expectancy — an  undefined  sense  of  some- 
thing being  wrong.  He  was  not  insensible 
of  the  fact  that  the  plumage  of  his  dove  was 
rustling.  No  woman  could,  of  course,  endure 
such  treatment. 

The  need  for  speech  on  his  part  was  plain  : 
but,  somehow,  he  was  at  a  loss  for  words. 


MISUNDERSTANDINGS  101 

Was  yet  alive  to  the  fact  that  she  would 
read  his  speechlessness  her  own  way  :  would 
set  him  down  as  guilty  of  caddish  behaviour. 
The  silence  became  tense  :  the  strain  was 
fast  becoming  unbearable. 

But  little  time  passed  ;  she  got  to  her  feet 
— being  the  kind  of  woman  quick  to  take 
offence.  The  insult  was  felt  the  more  acutely 
because,  she  told  herself,  she  was  alone  to 
blame  :  had  simply  courted  it,  brought  it  on 
herself. 

She  had  wanted  to  meet  this  man.  Had 
hurried  on  to  the  parade  with  the  feeling  in 
her  heart  that  it  would  be  good  to  meet  him. 
Had  sat  on  the  seat  for  a  minute's  rest  and 
a  faint  sense  of  grief  that  she  had  not  encoun- 
tered him  on  her  walk.  Had  been  thinking 
disconsolately  of  walking  home,  when  she 
was  rendered  joyful  by  his  presence. 

And  then — to  be  treated  like  that ! 
Had  she  offended  him  ?  Such  a  possibility 
passed  rapidly  through  her  mind ;  was  as 
rapidly  rejected  as  a  theory  untenable.  Did 
he  disapprove  of  her  coming  there  alone, 
at  that  time  ? 

She  knew  that  some  men  were  punctilious 
in  regard  to  such  matters.  But  he — natural, 
unconventional  as  he  was  himself — surely  it 
could  not  be  that.  His  voice  interrupted 
her  reflections.  In  a  husky,  strained  tone, 


102  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

looking  neither  right  nor  left,  but  aimlessly 
in  front  of  him,  he  said  : 

"  Nice,  fine  evening,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Another  credit  note  to  our  fickle  climate  ! 
But  the  utter  incongruity  of  the  remark,  the 
exceedingly  strange  tone  of  his  voice,  caused 
her  to  wheel  round  and  look  at  him.  Then 
she  saw.  The  moon  chanced  to  be  free 
from  clouds  just  then  ;  its  pale  beams  accen- 
tuated the  lividity  of  Masters'  face. 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  you  are  ill !  What  has 
happened — an  accident  ?  What  can  I  do 
for  you  ?  " 

As  she  was  quick  of  thought  so  she  was 
quick  of  movement.  In  a  moment  v\as  kneel- 
ing beside  him — all  the  annoyance  and  hastily- 
aroused  temper  gone  to  the  winds.  Only  her 
helpful  woman's  instinct  aching  to  be  of 
service  to  him  :  to  the  man  she  loved. 

"It  is  nothing.  Don't — please.  Don't 
worry  yourself." 

Impulsively  her  arms  went  up  to  his 
shoulders  in  sheer  sympathy  and  kindliness. 
All  the  stiffness,  all  the  resentment,  left  her. 
She  was  only  just  plainly  and  simply  a 
woman. 

That  being  the  case,  her  womanly  pride 
was  relegated  to  a  back  seat.  Her  precious 
dignity  went  down  in  value  ;  right  down  to 
nil.  It  was  not  in  the  question  at  all — that 


MISUNDERSTANDINGS  103 

question  she  asked  as  she  gave  herself  to  the 
needs  of  the  moment ;  asked  with  real 
anxiety  : 

"  Tell  me— what  to  do  ?  " 

The  light  was  there  on  her  face,  in  her 
eyes  !  Oh,  unmistakably  there  !  The  light 
which  yesterday  he  had  prayed  he  might 
see  ;  that  he  had  yearned  for  with  his  heart 
and  soul.  Her  soft  beautiful  radiant  eyes 
were  looking  with  eager,  tearful  anxiety  into 
his  own. 

For  a  moment — the  influence  of  the  mo- 
ment and  forgetfulness  in  combination — he 
felt  that  he  must  grasp,  grip,  strain  her  to 
him.  Hold  her  in  one  long,  lasting  embrace. 
Then — he  remembered  !  That  an  hour  back 
she  had  been  clinging  to,  looking  into  another 
man's  face  with  the  same  tearful  eyes  !  Oh, 
the  excellence,  super-excellence,  of  her  acting  ! 
He  would  have  given  a  king's  ransom  for  the 
ability  to  laugh  just  then — at  himself. 

Could  it  be — could  it  ?  For  a  brief  instant 
he  doubted.  The  next  moment  blamed  him- 
self for  being  a  fool.  But  not  a  blind  fool 
— oh,  no  !  He  had  the  evidence  of  his 
own  eyes :  the  evidence  for  the  prosecu- 
tion. 

Most  of  us,  under  such  circumstances, 
willingly  take  upon  ourselves  the  threefold 
responsibility  of  witness,  jury  and  judge. 


104  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

It  is  instinctive  in  most  men  :  the  desire  to 
ladle  out  justice.  But  the  appeal  court 
sometimes  oversets  the  decisions  ;  Justice  is 
not  infallible — perhaps  her  blindness  has 
something  to  do  with  it. 

Few  of  us  betray  modesty  when  wearing 
the  ermine.  The  more  rigorously  we  silence 
the  opposing  counsel — the  evidence  of  our 
own  hearts — the  more  we  pride  ourselves  on 
our  impartiality,  our  exemplary  Roman- 
fatherly  administration  of  justice.  We  are 
apt  to  ignore  any  talk  of  a  Court  of  Appeal ; 
arrogate  to  ourselves  supreme  wisdom. 

Curiously  enough,  the  more  severe  the 
sentence  we  pronounce,  the  more  we  rise 
in  our  own  estimation.  The  rise  may  not  be 
permanent — seldom  is  ;  but  while  we  are 
at  the  high  water  mark  of  self-assurance 
we  generally  make  the  most  of  the  tide. 
The  sailing  along  on  it  is  helped  by  the  wind 
of  serene  self-complacency  ;  we  sun  ourselves 
in  vanity  of  our  prowess.  Forgetfulness  is 
there  ;  that  the  tide — like  the  proverbial 
lane  or  worm — has  a  knack  of  turning. 

The  dominant  note  in  Masters  at  the 
moment  was  anger.  That  such  a  woman 
should  have  power  over  men.  He  mentally 
thanked  God  that  her  power  over  him  was 
of  the  past.  Laid  the  flattering  unction  to 
his  soul  that  perhaps  he  was  cleaner-minded 


MISUNDERSTANDINGS  105 

than  his  fellows.  Man  applies  curious  oint- 
ments to  his  wounds  ! 

But  that  thankfulness  did  not  arrest  his 
anger ;  made  it  the  greater  perhaps.  He 
was  hardly  in  a  state  of  that  judicial  calm 
which  should  characterize  dispassionate  in- 
quiry. Being  angry,  he  spoke — after  the 
manner  of  the  angry  man — foolishly  ;  said 
brutally  : 

"  This  has  been  a  busy  evening  with  you. 
Don't  you  get  tired  of  hugging  men  ?  I  am 
the  second  in  one  hour." 

For  a  moment  she  made  no  movement,  no 
sound — save  of  the  quick  indrawing  of  her 
breath.  It  was  as  if  some  icy  blast  had 
suddenly  assailed  and  frozen  her  to  the  spot. 
Her  face  retained  the  same  look  ;  she  was 
too  amazed — not  understanding — too  aston- 
ished to  do  more  than  look.  He  went  on 
mercilessly : 

"  I  saw  the  parting  at  your  back  door ; 
I  was  passing.  Saw  you  slobbering  over  a 
man  there  as  you  seem  inclined  to  slobber 
over  me." 

It  was  as  if  he  had  struck  her  !  She  drew 
in  her  breath  so  that  it  sounded  whistle-like. 
Fell  back ;  extending  her  arms,  seemed  as  if 
she  would  push  him  from  her  as  something 
unclean.  In  colourlessness  her  face  rivalled 
his. 


106  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

"  How  dare  you " 

Those  words  were  shaped  on  her  white 
lips.  Then  she  stopped.  The  lips  trembled, 
tightened.  Rising  to  her  feet,  the  indigna- 
tion in  her  eyes  as  she  looked  down  at  him 
completed  the  sentence. 

He  laughed  ;  that  laugh  with  the  under- 
lying sobbing  catch  in  it,  for  his  laughter 
was  not  born  of  merriment.  Said,  righteous 
indignation  shining  in  his  own  eyes  too  : 

"  Dare  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  The  wit- 
nessing of  it,  or  telling  you  of  it  ?  " 

She  scorned  reply ;  he  was  really  too 
contemptible  !  Yet  the  woman  in  her  bub- 
bled to  the  surface  ;  she  could  not  resist  an 
effort  to  hurt  him  : 

"  And  you — you  played  the  spy  !  " 

A  raising  of  his  shoulders,  a  lowering  of  his 
eyes,  as  he  answered : 

"  Call  it  so  if  you  wish." 

He  really  did  not  care  what  she  thought 
of  him  ;  plainly  showed  that.  The  indiffer- 
ence roused  her ;  she  tried  again.  Spoke 
with  forced  quietness — standing  a  little  way 
from  him — her  voice  full  of  contempt : 

"  There  is  a  man  bearing  your  name  in  the 
High  Street  :  a  blacksmith.  I  could  under- 
stand such  behaviour  on  his  part.  But — a — 
gentleman  !  " 

Her  satisfaction  came  then  :  she  had  hurt. 


MISUNDERSTANDINGS  107 

A  deep  flush  streamed  over  his  face,  then 
faded  altogether  away,  except  for  two  red 
streaks. 

"  Am  I  not  behaving  as  one  ?  " 

Keenly  sensitive  to  her  rebuke,  he  spoke 
half-apologetically.  The  bitterness  of  the 
incident  was  making  him  more  himself. 
Brought  home  to  him,  forcefully,  the  irony 
of  things. 

"  Pray  pardon  me."  He  rose  and  stepped 
towards  her.  "  Will  you  allow  me  to  see  you 
home?" 

"  Don't  touch  me  !  " 

There  seemed  an  absolute  fire  burning  in 
her  eyes,  so  intense  was  her  scorn.  She  could 
not  have  shrunk  from  him,  or  found  him 
more  repellent,  had  he  been  a  leper.  Her 
eyes  seemed  to  scorch  him. 

He  knew  himself  to  be  in  the  right ;  knew 
it  perfectly  well ;  beyond  the  shadow  of 
a  doubt.  But  standing  before  that  searing 
indignation,  it  was  he  who  appeared  to  be 
in  the  wrong,  even  to  himself — his  inmost 
self. 

Such  treatment  hurt.  Thought  of  the 
gross  unfairness  of  it  too  was  positively  sting- 
ing. He  who  was  suffering — the  victim — to 
be  put  in  the  wrong  !  To  be  arraigned  by  the 
victimi&r  ! 

His   blood,    his   forehead,    seemed    to   be 


io8  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

burning  hot,  the  while  he  was  conscious 
of  cold  shivers  running  through  him.  Was 
this — he  despised  himself  as  he  questioned — 
carrying  out  his  intention  ?  Was  he  pluck- 
ing up  his  love  by  the  roots  ? 

It  was  weakness — he  labelled  it  so — weak- 
ness on  his  part  that  her  words,  her  presence, 
had  still  such  power  to  move  him.  He 
would  be  strong — strong  and  just.  But  he 
realized  the  hardness  of  the  task  he  set 
himself.  It  was  man's  work ;  he  would 
prove  himself  worthy  of  it. 

She  did  not  deign  him  another  word; 
the  wound  to  her  pride  was  too  severe  for 
that.  Her  blue  eyes  blazed,  as  perhaps  only 
blue  eyes  can.  She  would  have  given  worlds 
for  tears  to  soften  their  burning  heat,  but 
no  tears  came.  Without  another  glance  at 
him  she  turned  and  walked  away — assumed 
an  every-day  gait ;  he  should  not  think  she 
was  excited. 

He  did  not  attempt  to  stop  her.  Why 
should  he  ?  It  was  better  so.  Better  that 
the  sharp  severing  blow  had  been  struck 
then  than  later  :  clean  cuts  heal  quickest. 
He  would  let  her  get  well  on  her  way  home 
before  he  moved.  She  must  not  think  he 
was  trying  to  follow. 

Standing  on  the  edge  of  the  wall  he  looked 
out  to  sea.  The  water  wore  an  appearance 


MISUNDERSTANDINGS  109 

of  invitation  :  that  dangerous  aspect  which 
has  proved  irresistibly  attractive  to  so  many. 
Right  out  too,  it  looked  so — so — so  away 
from  everything. 

The  tide  was  receding  ;  was  going  out  and 
away — to  the  Great  Beyond.  He  knew  that 
if  he  chose  he  could  go  with  it.  It  would 
be  so  easy  an  act,  if  he  stepped  off  the  rocks 
further  down — into  the  water  that  was  always 
deep. 

Then  he  pulled  himself  up  with  a  jerk. 
Pride  came  to  the  rescue.  Was  he  to  cave 
in,  go  under,  just  because  of  a  woman  ? 
What  a  fool  he  was  !  What  an  unmitigated, 
arrant  fool !  Was  there  a  woman  in  the 
world — the  whole  world — worth  caring  so 
much  for  ?  No.  Not  one  ! 

But  his  heart  contradicted.  He  remem- 
bered that  anxious  look  on  her  face,  the 
loving  attitude,  the  feel  of  her  arms  as  they 
rested  on  his  breast,  his  shoulders.  His,  too, 
was  the  remembrance  of  the  warmth  of  the 
sweet  human  breath ;  her  eyes  that  had 
looked  into  his.  Then  he  looked  out  to  sea 
again  ;  mentally  out  to  the  Great  Beyond. 
Asked  himself  the  old,  old  question  :  Was 
life  worth  living  ? 

Bathos  saved  the  situation.  He  remem- 
bered that  a  character  in  one  of  his  stories 
had  asked  the  same  question :  Was  life 


no  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

worth  living  ?  The  comic  doctor  had  re- 
plied that  it  depended — depended  on  the 
liver ! 

He  walked  home. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

FEVERISH    SYMPTOMS 

MASTERS  did  not  leave  Wivernsea.  The 
obstinacy  of  his  character  came  into 
play  there  ;  he  had  come  down  for  a  month, 
and  he  stopped. 

He  had  come  for  a  purpose  too — business 
purpose — had  his  book  to  finish.  Was  a 
trifling  incident,  the  accident  common  to 
men's  lives,  to  disturb  the  current  of  his  life  ? 
To  turn  him  from  his  prearranged  plan  in  the 
smallest  degree  ?  Perish  the  thought ! 

All  he  altered  was  the  direction  of  his 
walks  ;  he  thought  that  wisdom.  Because, 
like  other  wise  men,  he  left  the  east  and  went 
west.  It  was  Clifnand  there  ;  sheltered  spots 
innumerable  were  easily  found. 

She,  yet  more  proud  than  he,  altered 
nothing ;  took  her  walks  with  Grade  as 
usual.  Sat  on  the  seat  at  the  far  end  of  the 
walk ;  read  novels  there  with  stoic  fortitude 
— except  for  an  occasional  long  look  across 
the  waters. 


112  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Looking  across  the  wide  sea  seems  to 
afford  scope  for,  to  encourage,  limitless, 
aimless  reflections.  At  any  rate  hers  were 
aimless ;  she  knew  that.  But  a  woman 
dearly  loves  the  memories  of  the  past,  to 
bring  them  before  her  :  to  pet  and  fondle 
and  keep  them  alive  with  the  warmth  of  her 
heart. 

Being  at  opposite  poles,  east  and  west, 
their  daily  meetings  ended.  Once  he  met 
her  in  the  post  office  ;  he  was  leaving  as  she 
was  entering.  He  raised  his  hat,  and  would 
— from  mere  courtesy — have  said  :  Good 
Morning.  But  the  unframed  words  wilted 
on  his  lips. 

Her  eyes,  as  they  fell  on  him,  lighted  up 
with  indignation  ;  a  second  edition  of  what 
he  had  seen  before.  As  they  for  a  moment 
rested  on  him  they  seemed  to  scorch  up  what 
he  would  have  said.  His  raised-to-hat  hand 
trembled  and  fell :  he  passed  out. 

Reaching  home  she  found  that  she  had 
carried  with  her  a  recollection  of  his  face. 
By  the  seat  he  had  said  things  to  her  that  no 
woman  could  forgive.  She  told  herself  that 
an  average  hundred  times  a  day — to  say 
nothing  of  the  sleepless  nights  she  passed 
with  thoughts  full  of  him.  But  she  was 
sorry  to  see  the  haggard,  worn  look  he  was 
wearing  as  he  left  the  post  office. 


FEVERISH   SYMPTOMS  113 

He  had  appeared  ill.  His,  she  had  told 
him,  was  a  face  which  had  borne  no  worry 
lines  ;  lines  of  thought  but  not  of  trouble. 
The  absence  of  the  latter  had  made  him 
appear  younger  than  he  really  was. 

With  a  smile  she  thought  back  on  the  time 
— it  seemed  quite  a  long  while  ago — when 
she  had  fancied  that  she  had  almost  come  to 
love  that  eager,  enthusiastic  face;  boyish, 
but  still  with  an  air  of  manly  determination 
about  it,  set  in  a  manly  frame. 

Masters'  shoulders  were  quite  abnormally 
broad  and  square  ;  accentuated  the  impres- 
sion of  strength  made  by  the  broad  bronzed 
forehead.  How  foolish  women  were,  she 
thought.  Well,  she  had  learnt  a  lesson ; 
she  would  profit  by  it.  Experience  had 
taught  her  ;  she  would  prove  herself  a  grate- 
ful pupil. 

She  had  deceived  herself  for  the  first  time 
and  the  last.  Of  course  it  was  painful — the 
awakening.  Waking  up  to  the  perception 
of  unvarnished  facts  generally  is  unpleasant. 
But  she  could  look  at  her  own  foolishness 
without  wincing,  indulgently — her  foolishness 
of  a  week  ago.  Just  an  error  of  judgment 
that  there  was  no  scrap  of  likelihood  of  her 
repeating. 

Still — she  admitted  it  to  herself — he  was 
undeniably  attractive.  Hardly  less  so 

H 


H4  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

because  he  looked  older  in  the  post  office 
than  he  had  done  formerly.  The  worry  lines, 
whose  absence  she  had  remarked,  were  there 
now. 

One  hasty  glance  had  shown  them  to 
her  ;  they  were  so  apparent.  She  wondered 
— a  kindly  feeling  stealing  over  her — whether 
she  had  anything  to  do  with  it :  the  change. 
Then  memory  came  and  withered  up  the 
softness  ;  pointed  out  what  had  been  said  to 
her  that  night  when  she  knelt  by  the  seat ! 
The  memory  was  a  blasting  breath ;  her 
softness  fell  away. 

The  mere  remembrance  of  it  made  her  feel 
hot  all  over.  She — she  to  kneel  to  a  man ! 
Because  she  had  fancied  he  was  ill — full 
of  kind  feelings  towards  him,  she  had  knelt ; 
and  he  had  talked  of  hugging  and  slobbering  ! 
To  have  her  kindness,  so  well  meant,  recoil 
on  her,  thrown  back  on  her  hands  as  it  were, 
with  gratuitous,  unwarranted  insult  instead 
of  thanks ! 

It  is  galling  to  have  a  gift  returned ;  the 
gall  is  greater  when  the  gift  is  of  the  heart's 
kindness ;  more  galling  still  when  the  un- 
gracious recipient  vacates  a  place  in  that 
heart  itself.  The  return  then  savours  of 
brutality. 

Fury,  too,  came  to  her  at  the  mere  memory 
of  his  speech.  She  was  almost  as  angry  as 


FEVERISH   SYMPTOMS  115 

when  the  words  rang  freshly  in  her  ears.  But 
with  all  the  temper  there  was  mingled  wonder. 
Surely  he  could  not  be  a  man  to  whom 
brutality  came  easily.  Why — why — why — • 
had  he  behaved  so  ? 

Fool  ?  No.  She  told  herself  that  she  was 
not  that.  She  had  read  in  his  eyes  that  he 
loved  her ;  indeed,  had  more  than  once 
checked  his  telling  her  so.  What  could  be  the 
cause  ? 

He  had  spoken  of  seeing  her  in  the  back 
garden  that  night — but  that  was  a  mere 
incident — there  were  a  thousand-and-one 
explanations  of  that.  He  would  know  that ; 
there  must  have  been  something  else. 

But  why  should  she  worry  herself  about 
the  matter — about  the  man  ?  Plainly  he  was 
not  worthy  a  second  thought.  Ready  to 
misjudge  her  as  he  had  been — well^  let  him  ! 
She  did  not  care  ;  not  a  scrap.  She  was 
quite  capable  of  fighting  her  way  alone. 

Then  she  picked  up  one  of  the  books  of  his 
he  had  given  her.  On  the  fly  leaf  she  read : 

Miss  Mivvins  ;  to  remind,  her  of  Our  Seat, 
on  which  so  many  of  these  pages  were 
written. 

William  Masters. 

She  stood  with  her  eyes  on  the  writing, 
the  book  in  her  hand,  for  many  minutes. 
Then  put  the  volume  down  with  a  sigh.  After 


n6  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

all,  she  thought,  real  friends  are  as  rare  as 
Christian  charity. 

Crunching  sounds — boot  pressure  of  gravel, 
made  her  look  out  of  the  window  on  to  the 
path  leading  to  the  gate.  The  doctor  was 
coming  up  it  to  the  house.  She  went  out  to 
meet  him. 

Gracie  was  not  well — restless  and  feverish 
— was  now  lying  on  her  bed  sleeping.  The 
doctor,  on  his  previous  visit,  had  thought  it  a 
cold  merely,  but  there  were  faint  symptoms 
which  made  him  promise  to  come  again. 
He  was  there  in  fulfilment  of  that  promise 
now. 

She  was  waiting  for  him  at  the  door  when 
he  reached  it.  Nodding  to  her,  in  an  informal, 
friendly  way,  he  questioned  cheerily : 

"  And  how  is  the  little  one  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Much  better,  I  think,  doctor.  She  is 
sleeping  peacefully  now." 

"  Sleeping  ?  Still  ?  Is  she  drowsy  ?  .  „  • 
Let  me  see  her." 

They  walked  into  the  bedroom  together. 
The  noise  of  their  entrance  roused  the  child. 
She  looked  up  and  around  her,  with  the 
frightened  eyes  of  one  suddenly  awakened 
from  alarming  dreams. 

"  Well,  little  girlie  !  " 

The  doctor  spoke  merrily.  He  was  of  that 
type  ;  did  not  carry  the  undertaker  with  him 


FEVERISH   SYMPTOMS  117 

when  visiting  a  patient.  He  advanced  to 
take  the  child's  hand  lying  on  the  coverlet ; 
continued : 

"  This  is  a  nice  idea  of  yours,  upon  my 
word !  Going  to  sleep  in  the  day " 

His  intent  in  the  adoption  of  a  reassuring 
tone  was  to  change  the  current  of  her 
thoughts  :  the  wild  thoughts  evidently  surg- 
ing in  that  active  little  brain.  But  when  he 
clasped  the  child's  hand  in  his  own,  the  merri- 
ment left  his  voice,  the  smile  his  face.  His 
other  hand  he  placed  on  her  forehead,  then 
turning,  said  : 

"  Why  did  you  not  send  for  me  ?  " 

The  mother  was  standing  close  beside  the 
child,  stooping  so  that  her  face  was  on  a  level 
with  the  terror-stricken  little  one's  bright 
eyes.  She  was  speaking  loving  wofds,  in  the 
loving  way  that  appeals  to  children.  Words 
which  read  so  foolishly,  yet  sound  so  sweetly. 
She  turned  round  suddenly,  startled  by  the 
gravity  in  the  doctor's  voice. 

"  Send  !  "  she  cried.  "  Why  ?  She— she 
is  not — oh,  don't  tell  me "  • . 

"  Hush !  " 

She  became  quiet  at  once.  Another  phase 
of  the  doctor's  character  showed :  his  will 
power.  The  loving  anxiety  was  suppressed. 
The  practical  woman  was  to  the  fore,  intent 
on  the  doctor's  instructions  : 


n8  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  She  must  be  undressed  and  put  to  bed. 
Have  a  fire  here  ;  it  must  be  kept  going 
night  and  day.  Send  one  of  your  maids  "  —he 
was  writing  on  a  leaf  of  his  note-book  as  he 
spoke,  and  finishing,  tore  it  out — "  with  this 
prescription  at  once." 

Gracie  was  fever-stricken  !  Tossed  in  deli- 
rium all  that  night  and  the  next  day.  All  the 
next  day  and  night — and  the  mother  sat 
by  the  bedside,  tending,  never  leaving  the 
little  one. 

The  doctor  came  three  and  four  times  a 
day.  Each  time  he  looked  grave.  There 
was  no  sign  of  improvement  in  the  child's 
condition.  The  mother,  worn  out  with  watch- 
ing, ever  looking  to  him  for  comfort,  read 
none. 

Did  ever — during  all  those  hours  of  wear- 
ing, waiting,  anxious  watching — the  thought 
of  Masters  cross  her  mind  ?  She  had  shut 
him  resolutely  out  of  her  heart,  turned  the 
key  of  consciousness  upon  him.  But  even 
bolts  and  bars  are  proverbially  of  small 
efficacy  in  such  cases. 

In  those  long  hours,  the  only  silence  break- 
ing sounds  were  the  monotonous  ticking  of 
the  clock  and  the  short,  quick  breathing  of 
the  little  white-robed,  white-faced  form  on 
the  white  pillows.  Sometimes,  then,  the 
woman's  resolution  broke  down ;  thoughts 


FEVERISH   SYMPTOMS  119 

of  The  Man  crept  in  upon  her  all  unbidden. 
Gentler  thoughts  than  she  had  harboured  in 
the  previous  days  :  troubles'  softening  influ- 
ence was  around. 

Their  first  meeting  !  She  thought  of  that. 
Of  his  affection  for  Gracie  ;  of  the  child's 
love  for  him.  Surely  a  child's  instinctive 
love  and  trust  went  for  something.  Perhaps, 
after  all — and  then  those  horrible  words  of 
his  rang  in  her  ears,  and  she  hid  her  hot  face 
in  the  white  coverlet.  Never,  never — they 
were  unforgivable.  Besides,  he  did  not  seek 
forgiveness. 

Strange  that,  by  the  bedside  of  the  pant- 
ing child,  with  Life  and  Death  fighting  for 
possession  of  the  fragile  little  form,  her  ears 
ever  straining  to  catch  the  sound  of  that 
softer  breathing  which  she  knew  wojild  signal 
Life's  victory — strange,  that  with  fear  and 
hope  surging  in  her  bosom,  even  while  her 
gentle  hand  restrained  her  dear  one's  restless 
tossing  to  and  fro  and  cooled  the  burning 
forehead  and  feverish,  clinging  little  fingers ; 
strange  that  there  should  seem  no  wrong, 
nothing  incongruous  in  the  thought  of  an 
almost  stranger — of  William  Masters.  Per- 
haps it  was  because  Gracie  loved  him  so 
dearly  :  that  must  have  been  the  reason. 

Poor  little  Gracie!  She  little  knew  what 
manner  of  man  it  was  to  whom  she  had 


120  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

offered  her  affectionate,  trusting  little  heart. 
Yet  he  had  been  kind  to  her,  more  than  kind. 
There  was  pleasantness  in  the  memory  of 
that. 

Fugitive  thoughts  were  these ;  stealing 
in  under  cover  of  the  night.  Those  hours 
when  that  watchful  keeper  of  the  heart — a 
woman's  pride — is  prone  to  forsake  his  trust ; 
to  leave  the  secret  of  that  heart  revealed 
before  its  Maker,  and  herself.  A  moment, 
and  the  watchful  sentinel  is  back  again  at  his 
post ;  repentant  for  his  lapse,  guarding  his 
treasure  more  jealously  than  ever. 

The  white  soul  of  the  child  stood  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow.  Hour 
by  hour  the  watching  woman  seemed  to  see 
the  Shadow  deepening,  growing.  Hour  by 
hour  she  strove  with  all  the  power  that  in  her 
lay  to  lead  that  white  soul  back  into  life's 
sunshine. 

The  watching  and  anxiety  told  on  her.  The 
doctor,  noting  her  sunken  eyes,  had  to  speak 
firmly  : 

"  You  must  take  rest.  You  need  it  as 
much  as  your  patient." 

"  Rest !  " 

"  Don't  be  foolish !  You  have  a  good 
woman  ;  this  woman  who  is  helping  you." 

"  She  has  been  a  nurse." 

"  I  see  she  understands.     You  must  take 


FEVERISH   SYMPTOMS  121 

rest  or  you  will  be  ill.  Ill,  too,  at  a  time  when 
you  are  most  needed." 

"  Tell  me,  doctor.  Oh  !  For  God's  sake, 
tell  me — you  don't  know  what  she  is  to  me  ! 
Tell  me- 

"  My  dear  madam,  I  can  tell  you  nothing. 
As  it  nears  midnight,  will  come  a  crucial 
time.  Humour  her ;  whatever  she  wants, 
no  matter  how  extravagant  it  may  seem,  let 
her  have  it.  She  has  an  excitable  nature, 
a  nervous  temperament.  Do  all  you  can  to 
soothe  her.  She  must  not  worry  for  any- 
thing :  it  might  prove  her  death.  Gratify 
her  desires  and  she  may  sleep — sleep  will  be 
her  salvation.  You  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  doctor." 

"  Whatever  she  asks  for,  gratify  her." 

"  Yes,  doctor." 

"  She  is  needing  sleep  ;  rest  for  tWat  active 
little  brain  of  hers.  She  is  full  of  ideas  of 
triple-headed  giants,  fairies  and  stories  of 
that  sort.  Don't  contradict  her,  get  her  into 
a  state  of  contentment  if  possible.  Who  is 
this  Prince  Charlie  she  was  asking  for  just 
now  ?  " 

"  A  friend — a  casual  friend — some  one  we 
know." 

"  She  is  inexplainably  anxious  to  see  him. 
Soothe,  by  letting  her  do  so  if  possible.  She 
has  intervals  when  she  is  as  rational  as  you 


122  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

or  I ;  it  is  well  to  prolong  those  by  letting 
her  talk  to  people  she  knows  and  wants  to  see. 
Does  he  live  far  away — this  Prince  Charlie  ?  " 

"  In— in  the  town." 

'  Then,  by  all  means,  if  she  asks  again, 
send  for  him." 

"  Yes,  doctor." 

''  Fretting  and  excitement  are  to  be 
avoided.  Soothe  her  in  every  possible  way  ; 
gentleness  and  firmness  combined  go  a  long 
way.  But  this  Prince  Charlie — from  the  hold 
he  seems  to  have  on  her — may  go  a  longer  way 
still.  Of  course  she  may  not  ask  for  him 
again — maybe  it  is  a  mere  delirious  fancy — 
but  if  she  does,  you  will  know  how  to  act." 

But  Gracie  did  ask  again.  Asked  persist- 
ently, petulantly,  pleadingly.  The  watcher 
with  the  breaking  heart  allowed  the  mother 
in  her  nature  to  smother  the  mere  woman. 
She  resolved  to  humble  herself  in  the  dirt : 
to  send  for  him ;  he  who  had  so  grossly 
insulted  her. 

She  would  not  write,  she  would  not  see  him 
herself  :  she  could  not.  She  would  send  a 
verbal  message.  Late  as  it  was  there  was 
no  fear  of  not  finding  him  up,  she  knew.  He 
had  told  her  that  he  always  wrote  till  one  in 
the  morning. 

The  midnight  oil  phrase  was  one  he  was 
ever  using. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

TO  BEG  FOR  MERCY 

AN  upward  glance  at  the  clock  on  the 
mantel.  It  was  late  :  within  an  hour 
of  midnight.  The  servants  had  already  gone 
to  bed.  Going  to  their  rooms  she  gently 
knocked  at  the  door ;  called  to  one  of  them 
by  name  : 

"  Ellen  !  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

The  reply  in  a  frightened,  startled  voice. 
The  tone  betrayed  the  maid's  fear  that  she 
was  to  hear  bad  news.  The  next  words  were 
a  relief  : 

'  You  know  where  Mr.  Masters  lives  ?  " 

The  possibility  of  a  want  of  knowledge  on 
the  part  of  the  servants  never  occurred  to  her. 
She  was  not  in  the  least  surprised  when  an 
affirmative  answer  was  returned  to  her : 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  I  want  you  to  get  up  at  once,  Ellen — I 
am  sure  you  will  not  mind — and  dress  your- 


133 


124  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

self  quickly.  Go  to  Mr.  Masters,  give  him  my 
compliments,  and  ask  him — ask  him  to  come 
here — to  be  kind  enough  to  come  here  at 
once." 

"  Yes,  ma'am.     Certainly." 

The  girl  had  listened  in  astonishment,  but 
obediently  set  about  the  task  set  her.  She 
was  fond  of  children,  was  Ellen  ;  was  thankful 
too  that  she  had  not,  as  she  had  feared  at 
first,  been  called  to  hear  bad  news  about 
Miss  Gracie. 

The  maid  had  no  thought  of  grumbling  at 
the  late  service  demanded  of  her,  although 
greatly  wondering  at  the  message  she  was 
to  deliver.  The  over-wrought,  tired  woman 
returned  to  the  sick  room  and  waited. 
Presently  the  little  lips — for  the  hundredth 
time — shaped  the  question  : 

"  I  want  Prince  Charlie  ;  won't  he  come 
and  tell  me  about  the  fairy  and  Jack  ?  " 

The  mother's  heart  was  full  of  thankfulness 
that  she  had  sent ;  that  she  had  humbled  her- 
self to  do  so.  She  was  able  to  bend  over  and 
whisper : 

"  Yes,  darling.  Mother  has  sent  for  him. 
He  will  be  here  directly." 

She  was  without  fear  in  making  the 
promise;  felt  so  sure  he  would  come.  He 
was  a  gentleman,  he  would  understand. 
He  would  know  how  urgent  must  be  the  need 


TO   BEG   FOR   MERCY  125 

which  could  demand  his  presence  at  that  late 
hour — indeed,  to  send  for  him  at  all.  Or 
would  he  think — No  !  The  thought  was  too 
horrible  !  She  stifled  it. 

Waiting,  waiting,  waiting — weary  waiting  ! 
At  last  she  heard  the  maid's  returning  steps 
on  the  path  without ;  ran  to  the  door  and 
opened  it.  The  girl  spoke  reluctantly  ;  what 
she  had  to  say  made  the  mother  turn  sick 
at  heart. 

"  Said,  ma'am,  it  was  too  late  to  come  out 
to-night.  He  would  come  round  in  the 
morning." 

The  mother's  mind  failed  to  grasp  it :  that 
message.  The  callous  cruelty  of  it.  It 
seemed  too — too  impossible.  Had  he  mis- 
understood— misjudged  her  ?  Could  it  be  ? 
Had  she  fallen  so  low  in  his  estimation  ? 
A  crimson  flood  overspead  her  face.  .  *  .  After 
a  pause,  as  if  clutching  at  a  straw,  she  in- 
quired: 

"  Did  you  see  him  yourself  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  He  seemed  to  wonder 
what  you  could  want  with  him.  Said  it 
would  keep,  whatever  it  was,  till  the  morn- 
ing." 

"  Keep — till — the — morning!  " 

Gracie's  pleading,  her  own  promise,  rang 
in  her  ears !  Keep  till  the  morning. 
The  irony  of  it !  She  staggered  against  the 


126  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

wall,  passed  her  hand  across  her  brow — loath 
to  believe  that  the  author,  fond  of  children, 
could  behave  so — asked  again — 

'  You  are  quite  sure  you  saw  him  your- 
self ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  ma'am.  I  know  Mr.  Masters 
quite  well  by  sight."  She  did — Masters, ' 
the  blacksmith  !  She  had  been  to  his  shop  in 
the  High  Street,  and  in  response  to  her  ring- 
ing of  his  house  bell,  he  had  put  his  head 
out  of  his  bedroom  window  and  spoken  to 
her.  Not  in  any  very  pleasant  tone  ;  he  was 
not  pleased  that  his  beauty  sleep  had  been 
broken  into. 

He  was  an  early-to-bed  and  early-to-rise 
old  man.  He  could  see  no  sense  in  turning 
out  at  past  eleven  o'clock  at  night  for  any  one. 
Not  even  for  a  sick  child  or  for  the  finest  lady 
in  the  land. 

As  he  went  grumbling  back  to  his  bed  the 
blacksmith  muttered  that  some  of  them  fine 
ladies  seemed  to  think  it  was  a  nonner  to  be 
at  their  beck  and  call ;  summat  to  be  proud 
of,  it  was,  for  a  poor  man  like  hisself .  None  of 
their  airs' for  him — he  wasn't  having  any,  this 
time.  Such  was  his  grumble  ;  weighted  with  a 
plethora  of  adjectives — of  a  quite  unprintable 
kind. 

The  mother  staggered  back  into  the  bed- 
room, to  the  child's  side.  White-faced, 


TO   BEG  FOR   MERCY  127 

trembling  in  every  limb,  supported  herself 
by  the  bed  rail.  Noted  the  hour  :  past  eleven 
o'clock.  The  crucial  time  the  doctor  had 
spoken  of  was  approaching. 

Gracie  was  in  a  quite  rational  mood.  Her 
brightly  burning  eyes  were  fixed  on  her  mother 
as  she  entered  the  room,  and  she  spoke  at 
once,  eagerly — as  eagerly  as  the  feeble  little 
lips  could  frame  words — stuttering  in  her 
eagerness : 

"  Has  Pr — Prince  Charlie  come  yet, 
mamma  ?  " 

Right  down  into  the  depths  of  despair  sank 
the  mother's  heart.  She  took  the  child's 
hot  hand  in  her  own  ;  gently  brushed  the  curls 
away  from  the  little  forehead  with  the  other. 
As  she  did  so  the  hot  dryness  of  that  brow 
was  brought  to  her  notice  afresh/1  It  was 
necessary  to  answer  the  child  ;  the  reply  was 
gently  given.  Yet  the  utterance  of  each  word 
was  as  a  stab  to  her  : 

"  Not— not  yet,  darling." 

A  little  whimpering,  plaintive  voice  uprose 
from  amongst  the  pillows : 

"  I  want  him,  mamma — won't  he  come  ?  " 

How  was  she  to  gratify  the  little  one's 
desire  :  to  get  Prince  Charlie  there  ?  The 
doctor  had  warned  her  that  at  this  stage  the 
child's  demands  were  to  be  granted  if  possible. 
If  possible.  She  had  sent  and  he  had 


128  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

refused  to  come.  The  doctor's  words  rang 
in  her  ears.  If  Possible. 

She  thought  of  the  man  sitting — as  she 
knew  he  would  be — shaping  with  his  pen, 
fictional  pathetic  pictures,  intended  to  draw 
tears  from  the  tender-hearted.  She  thought 
of  the  real  pathos  of  this  child,  perhaps 
dying,  to  whom  he  might  bring  life  and  hope 
by  his  mere  immediate  presence.  And  he  had 
returned  the  message  :  That  It  Would  Keep. 

The  child  tossed  uneasily  from  side  to  side. 
The  corners  of  the  arched  little  mouth  went 
down  threateningly.  If  Possible !  Was  it 
possible  to  bring  him — by  any  means  ?  Was 
it  possible  for  her  to  sink  her  womanhood 
even  deeper  ?  To  humble  herself  to  Beg  of 
him  to  come  ?  Would  he  come  even  if  she 
did? 

Then  the  direction  came  from  the  little 
form  tossing  restlessly  from  side  to  side ;  the 
weak  voice  whispered : 

"  You  said  he  would  come,  mamma.  Won't 
you  fetch  him  ?  He  will  come  if  you  fetch 
him." 

WTould  he  ?  Was  that  the  possibility  ? 
Was  the  little  one  wise  in  saying  that  ?  She 
remembered  that  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes 

and Well,  she  could  but  try.  The  mother 

in  her  was  mighty,  stronger  than  all  else : 
prevailed. 


TO   BEG   FOR   MERCY  129 

There  was  no  mental  balance  used  in  her 
decision.  No  conscious  weighing  of  pros 
and  cons.  The  duty — if  aught  prompted 
by  love  is  duty — stood  clear  before  her. 
Something  greater  than  her  own  will  impelled 
her  decision.  She  would  at  once  go  to  him 
herself. 

Glancing  at  the  clock  again,  she  saw  that 
the  recorded  time  was  half -past  eleven.  She 
would  go  to  him.  Go  on  her  knees  to  him : 
would  not  spare  herself  further.  Would 
beg  him,  for  God's  sake,  to  be  more  merciful 
than  he  had  shown  himself  in  his  message. 
Entreat  him  not  to  put  off  till  to-morrow — 
when  it  might  be  too  late — that  which 
could  be  done  to-night. 

Self-blame  just  then  she  was  very  full  of ; 
bitterness  for  not  having  gone  to  J»im  in  the 
first  instance  herself.  Tortured  herself  with 
the  thought  that  it  might  now  be  too  late. 
Wondered  if  God  would  forgive  her  obstinate 
pride.  Still  be  merciful  to  her  :  still  let  her 
keep  her  child. 

She  bent  over  the  bed  and  spoke  close  into 
the  little  ear.  Made  spasmodic  but  unavailing 
attempts  to  control  her  emotion  :  could  not 
bring  herself  to  utter  the  words  more  than 
just  audibly: 

"  You'll  be  quite  still,  darling,  won't  you, 
whilst  mother  goes  to  fetch  him  ?  " 

i 


130  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

The  face  turned  upwards.  The  mother 
kissed  it  passionately,  tenderly,  again  and 
again.  The  wasted  little  arms  went  round 
her  neck  and  clung  there  gratefully.  Mother 
was  going  to  fetch  Prince  Charlie  ! 

From  the  adjoining  room  the  woman  who 
assisted  in  the  child's  nursing  came ;  posted 
herself  by  the  bedside.  Then  the  mother — 
staggering  as  if  the  unknown  gaped  before 
her — left  the  room.  In  the  hall  slipped  on 
the  cloak  which,  she  remembered,  he  had 
buttoned. 

She  spent  no  time  in  seeking  a  hat.  Swung 
the  hood  up  from  behind  over  her  head.  So 
hurried  out  of  the  house. 

So,  into  the  night. 


CHAPTER   XV 

ON    HER    KNEES    TO    HIM 

WIVERNSEA  was  asleep.  Like  its 
blacksmith,  it  believed  in  the  theory 
of  early  rising.  Not  a  light  was  to  be  seen 
in  one  of  the  windows  she  passed.  Not  until 
she  came  to  the  end  of  the  Marine  Terrace. 
There  she  saw  an  illuminated  window  :  her 
beacon. 

It  was  but  a  short  distance  frorrf  her  own 
place  ;  not  ten  minutes'  walk.  She  seems  to 
have  spent  as  many  hours  in  covering  it. 
Despite  the  proverb,  time  does  not  always 
fly. 

The  house  which  Masters  lodged  in  was 
known  to  her.  He  had  described  the  quaint- 
ness  of  its  old-fashioned  bay  window ;  the 
only  one  in  the  row.  She  would  have  known 
it  as  his  place  without  even  the  beacon  light 
for  identification.  He  was  a  slave  of  the 
lamp  :  consumed  the  midnight  oil. 

As  she  made  towards  the  light  she  prayed, 


132  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

almost  aloud.  Prayed  for  a  conquering  power 
—over  her  pride.  That  she  might  be  humble. 
For  the  framing  of  words  to  move  this  man 
when  she  besought  him  to  come.  Soulfully 
prayed  that  God  would  incline  his  heart  to 
hear  her  prayer. 

Three  steps — she  faltered  up  them  ;  prox- 
imity to  her  goal  rendered  her  invertebrate — 
brought  her  to  the  level  of  the  door.  If  she 
put  her  hand  over  the  rails  she  could  tap  at 
the  window.  It  would  be  better  so  than 
disturbing  the  household  by  knocking.  She 
tapped. 

Her  actions  elicited  no  response !  She 
waited,  with  a  hard-beating  heart.  Still 
no  reply  :  dead  silence  !  Had  he  expected 
this — this  visit  of  hers — and  resolved  to 
remain  obdurate  ? 

The  window  blind  was  not  pulled  down 
to  its  full  length.  Through  the  lace  edging 
she  could  see  the  man  calmly  writing ; 
writing  as  if  thoroughly  engrossed  in  his 
work.  Evidently  the  thought  of  his  cruelty 
did  not  trouble  him  in  the  least. 

In  desperation,  there  seemed  nothing  else 
to  do,  she  used  her  fingers  again  :  loudly. 
Masters  looked  up;  started  in  astonishment. 
Heard  a  distinct  tapping  on  the  glass  of  his 
window ! 

He  walked  to  the  casement ;  pulled  the  cord 


ON   HER   KNEES    TO   HIM  133 

attached  to  a  spring  roller,  and  in  a  moment 
the  blind  had  shot  up.  Outside  all  was  moon- 
light brightness.  At  first  he  looked  straight 
away ;  saw  only  the  sea  with  the  intervening 
roadway.  Then,  suddenly,  at  the  side,  on  the 
steps,  saw  a  woman  with  a  ghastly  white, 
haggard  face  looking  at  him !  The  Woman 
He  Loved ! 

Start  ?  He  almost  jumped  in  his  amaze- 
ment !  Was  he  dreaming  ?  Was  it  his 
phantasy  ?  Then  he  came  plump  to  earth ; 
lost  no  further  time  in  surmises ;  went  to  the 
door. 

The  room  opened  on  to  the  hall ;  the 
street  door  was  but  a  couple  of  yards  away. 
He  had  gripped  its  handle  and  opened  it  in 
a  moment.  The  woman  was  there — no 
phantasy — flesh  and  blood,  clinging  to  the 
railings. 

"  My  God  !  What  has  happened  to  bring 
you  at  this  hour  ?  " 

"  Just — a — moment !  " 

The  answer  given  weakly  ;  breathlessly.  A 
swerve,  and  she  would  have  fallen,  but  for  an 
almost  nerveless  clutch  at  the  railings — but 
that  he  was  by  her  side  in  a  moment,  with  a 
strong  upholding  arm  round  her  waist. 

There  was  unconsciousness  of  his  clasp ; 
things  were  all  going  round  with  her.  .  .  .  She 
had  a  feeling  of  being  lifted ;  then  set  down 


134  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

again.  Then — then  a  blankness  :  conscious- 
ness left  her. 

For  a  brief  moment  Masters  held  her  in 
his  arms ;  her  whole  weight.  For  a  brief 
moment  the  blood  coursed  wildly  through 
his  veins ;  surged  brainwards.  A  wild,  mad 
1  impulse  seized  him  :  to  press  his  lips  to  hers, 
helpless,  passive  as  she  lay  there. 

With  difficulty  he  restrained  himself.  Laid 
down  his  burden  reverently  ;  her  angel's  face 
seemed  eloquent  of  innocence.  Once,  surely 
once  on  a  time,  it  had  spoken  truth.  Ah  ! 
What  Might  Have  Been. 

She  opened  her  eyes.  Found  herself  lying 
on  a  sofa.  Masters  standing  by  her  side, 
holding  brandy.  She  tried,  feebly,  to  push 
it  away ;  but  his  now  full-of-authority  voice 
commanded : 

"  Drink  !  " 

She  was  constrained  to  do  so  by  reason  of 
a  hand  which  went  under  and  lifted  her 
head  ;  another  which  placed  the  glass  to  her 
lips.  .  .  .  Struggling  to  a  sitting  position, 
passing  her  hand  across  her  eyes,  with  a 
pitiful  little  drooping  at  the  corners  of  her 
mouth,  she  said  : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  for — for — Was  I 
silly  ?  Did  I— I  felt  a  little  faint." 

He  remained  watching  her.  His  own  face 
had  grown  almost  the  colour  of  hers.  He 


ON   HER   KNEES    TO   HIM          135 

had  touched  her,  had  had  her  hand  in  his, 
had  felt  the  softness  of  her  hair  !  It  seemed 
to  him  as  if  the  noise  of  the  beating  of  his 
heart  drowned  the  ticking  of  the  clock. 

"  Tell  me,"  he  inquired,  still  supporting 
her,  "  what  brings  you  here  so  late  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  Womanlike,  an- 
swered his  question  by  another : 

"  Didn't  the  girl  tell  you  ?  " 

"What  girl?"  He  asked  in  surprise. 
"  Didn't  the  girl  tell  me  what  ?  " 

"  About  Gracie.  I — I  sent  to  you  half- 
an-hour  ago.  She — they  tell  me — I  think — 
Oh,  my  God  ! — I  am  so — so  afraid  ! — is  dying. 
She  asked  for  you  again  and  again.  You 
sent  a  message  that  you  would  come  to- 
morrow." 

"II" 

His  astonished  look,  the  blaze  of  suddenly 
aroused  anger  in  his  eyes,  frightened  her. 
Could  he  be  even  now  deceiving  her  ?  His 
kindness — was  it  falsity  ?  She  hurried  on 
with  her  explanation  ;  in  her  embarrassment 
the  words  tumbled  from  her  lips. 

"  Yes.  You  did— did  you  not  ?  Ah ! 
Don't  tell  me  there  was  any  mistake — the  girl 
saw  you  herself !  I  ought  to  be  with  Gracie 
now,  but  you  wouldn't  come  when  I  sent  for 
you.  She — I — thought  if  I  came  for  you, 
you  wouldn't  be  so  hard.  You  could  not — 


136  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

oh,  you  could  not — if  you  knew  that  perhaps 
her  very  life  depended  on  you." 

In  speaking  she  had  fallen  on  her  knees  ; 
knelt  to  him  in  her  entreaty.  It  hurt ;  he 
could  not  bear  to  see  her — a  woman — in  this 
attitude  of  supplication  to  him.  Almost 
roughly  he  raised  her  to  her  feet. 

When  erect,  not  seeing  through  her 
tear-streaming  eyes,  choked  with  her  emotion, 
she  plucked  at  his  coat  sleeve.  The  action 
horrified  him ;  recalled  the  night  he  had 
stood  beside  his  mother's  death-bed;  the 
dying  woman  had  plucked  at  the  counterpane 
in  just  such  a  way.  Roughly — to  hide  his 
aroused  emotion — he  shook  himself  free. 

Then  she  seized  on  and  took  his  hand  in 
her  own  burning  hot  shaking  ones.  Con- 
tinued to  plead,  sobs  breaking  her  utter- 
ance : 

"It  is  a  child;  a  little  child  dying!  She 
wanted  to  see  you  so  much  !  The  doctor  said 
we  were  to  gratify  her,  soothe  her,  and  perhaps 
get  her  to  a  sleep  which  will  save  her  lif  e .  You 
will  come  back  with  me — oh,  you  will,  will 
you  not  ?  She  knows  I  have  come  to  fetch 
you.  She  was  so  confident  you  would  come  ! 
I — I  have  annoyed  you,  or  done  something 
to  displease  you,  I  know  that,  but  I  am  all 
humility  now,  Mr.  Masters;  humble,  oh,  so 
humble !  " 


ON   HER    KNEES   TO    HIM          137 

She  had  slid  to  her  knees  again  before  he 
could  stop  her ;  continued  ; 

"  Humbly  begging  your  pardon  for  what- 
ever I  have  done.  Praying  you,  for  my 
little  child's  sake,  to  come  back  with  me, 
please.  .  .  .  Please.  .  .  .  Please  !  " 

For  a  second  time  he  stooped  and  raised 
the  sobbing  woman ;  bodily  picked  her  up.  He 
was  naturally  a  strong  man,  and  the  feeling 
filling  him  just  then  lent  additional  strength. 

He  was  so  much  moved  by  the  present 
that  he  lost  sight  of  all  he  had  heard,  all  he 
had  seen  in  the  past.  Only  knew  that  this 
woman,  whom  he  loved  with  all  his  heart 
and  soul,  whose  shoes  he  would  have  kissed, 
knelt  to  him. 

"  How  dare  you  ?  " 

His  question  was  put  fiercely,  as  in  that 
moment  of  lifting,  he  held  her  tightly  to 
him.  He  repeated  it  : 

"  How  dare  you  kneel  to  me  ?  How  dare 
you  beg  of  me  to  do  what  the  most  inhuman 
wretch  in  the  world  would  do  ?  " 

For  a  moment  he  left  her  side  ;  inside  that 
time  had  slipped  into  his  overcoat  and  drawn 
a  cap  from  his  pocket. 

"  Finish  that  brandy." 

There  was  that  in  his  voice  which  com- 
manded obedience  ;  she  never  thought  of  dis- 
obeying. 


138  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  You  will  come  ?  " 

She  put  the  question  tremblingly ;  holding 
the  glass  to  her  lips  as  she  did  so  with  a 
shaking  hand. 

"  At  once." 

A  feeling  of  anger  took  possession  of  him  : 
that  she  could  put  such  a  question ;  he 
continued : 

"  How  can  you  ask  ?  " 

Her  only  answer  was  a  soulful,  grateful 
cry  ;  a  cry  from  her  heart : 

"  Thank  God  !  " 

He  was  feeling  himself  considerably  less  of 
a  hero  than  on  the  last  occasion  of  their 
meeting.  But  this  was  not  a  time  for  thought ; 
as  he  opened  the  door  he  said,  speaking  almost 
gruffly : 

"  You  can  see  your  way  ?  " 

There  was  quite  light  enough  shed  by  the 
moon  for  that ;  and  there  was  light  ahead 
too  !  She  knew  she  could  rely  on  him ;  the 
very  sound  of  his  voice  told  her  that ;  was  an 
inspiration  in  itself.  Making  her  way  to 
the  hall  door  she  staggered  out ;  down  the 
little  stone  flight  to  the  pavement. 

Ere  she  reached  the  bottom  step,  he  had 
turned  down  the  lamp,  closed  the  house  door 
and  joined  her. 

"  Take  my  arm.  .  .  .  Cling  to  me  tightly. 
You  are  not  fit  to  walk  alone." 


ON   HER   KNEES   TO   HIM          139 

And  she  clung.  Forgot  all  he  had  said  to 
her.  Just  had  something  strong  and  powerful 
to  cling  to  in  her  time  of  trouble,  and  she 
clung.  Her  heart  beat  so  as  to  pain  her. 
She  heard  him  speak  and  spoke  to  him  in 
reply.  But  all  the  while  her  heart  was  full 
of  prayers  of  gratitude.  God  had  been  very 
good  to  her. 

Every  step  they  took  brought  them  nearer 
the  bungalow.  Nearer  the  realization  of 
hopes  upon  which  she  had  almost  erected 
a  monument.  She  knew — felt  rather — for 
certain  that  he  would  save  Gracie.  Faith 
was  strong  in  her. 

He  kept  her  talking  all  the  way  they 
walked.  Thought  to  divert  her  mind  from 
thoughts  of  the  sick  chamber  they  were 
coming  to.  But  she  wanted  to  think  of  it ; 
there  was  happiness  in  the  thought.  Her 
companion's  voice  rang  so  cheerily — it  gave 
her  hope.  There  seemed  magic  in  it ;  power 
to  dispel  doubts  and  fears. 

'  What  did  you  mean  by  a  girl  and  a 
message  you  sent  half-an-hour  ago  ?  My  land- 
lady went  to  bed  about  nine  o'clock.  There 
has  not  been  a  soul  near  the  house  since." 

"  A  mistake  evidently." 

She  answered  feebly.  Was  too  fatigued 
to  seek  explanation.  He  was  there,  going 
home  with  her — that  was  enough. 


140  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

"  In  some  way,  yes.  But  there  was  no 
mistake  in  your  thinking  me  capable  of  such 
brutality  as " 

He  stopped.  Recollected  the  words  he  had 
himself  used  to  her  in  his  anger  at  their  last 
meeting.  She  was  entitled  to  judge  him  so  ; 
was  fully  justified.  The  reflection  was  bitter 
as  gall. 

She  had  no  suspicion  why  he  paused.  Had 
she  known,  her  answer  might  have  been 
different.  As  it  was  she  said  meekly: 

"  Please  don't  be  angry  with  me." 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  her  to 
choose  words  more  likely  to  touch  him  in 
his  present  mood  of  self-reproach.  She  spoke 
too  with  such  an  appeal  in  her  tremulous 
voice,  that  retention  of  his  anger  would  have 
meant  changing  his  whole  nature. 

He  strode  on.  It  was  all  she  could  do  to 
keep  up  with  him.  His  anxiety  was  to  get 
where  he  might  be  of  help.  He  forgot;  he 
had  had  so  little  to  do  with  women. 

They  reached  the  bungalow.  Divested 
themselves  of  their  outdoor  garments  in  the 
hall.  The  house  was  so  quiet,  Death  himself 
might  have  been  in  possession.  It  struck 
an  unpleasant  chill  to  the  new  comer. 

Then  he  followed  her  to  the  sick  room. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

GOD'S   LITTLE    BOY 

GRACIE  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  propped 
up  by  the  pillows.  Masters  gave  a 
sigh  of  relief  :  they  were  not  too  late.  Death 
might  be  knocking  at  the  door,  but  had  not 
yet  been  admitted. 

The  child  looked  expectantly  at  the  door 
as  her  mother  opened  it.  Her  chee*  s  and 
eyes  were  bright  with  the  fever  in  them. 
Then  the  expectant  look  mellowed  into  a 
smile.  She  had  seen  the  man  behind  ! 

"  I  knew  yon  would  come,  Prince  Charlie  !  " 

"  Of  course  you  did  !  Knew  I  should  come 
when  I  knew  you  wanted  me.  I  shouldn't 
have  been  much  of  a  Prince  Charlie  if  I 
hadn't,  should  I  ?  " 

Masters  sat  on  the  bed  with  his  back 
against  the  headrail.  Put  his  arm  round  the 
little  one  and  snuggled  her  to  him.  Shs 
nestled  up  to  him  with  a  croon — a  little 
grunting  ejaculation  of  content — as  he  tucked 


142  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

the  clothes  closely  round  her.  Did  not  seem 
to  desire  to  talk,  was  just  simply  happy  in 
having  him  there.  He  inquired: 

"  Comfy  ?  " 

"  Awful." 

He  was  grieved  to  feel  how  she  had  fallen 
away.  How,  in  a  few  days,  she  had  grown 
so  thin.  For  the  mother's  and  child's  sakes, 
he  made  no  outward  manifestation  of  his 
grief :  expressed  no  surprise.  He  felt  that 
his  mission  just  then  was  to  brighten,  not  to 
shed  gloom.  Spoke  jestingly  : 

"  Now  that  Prince  Charlie  is  here,  what 
have  you  to  say  to  his  royal  highness  ? 
Nothing  ?  " 

"  I  dreamed  a  dream,  Prince  Charlie  !  " 

"  Oh  !  " 

"  Yes.  That  you  were  married  to  me ; 
that  you  were  my  husband." 

"Did  you  ?  Now  that  was  something 
like  a  dream !  What  sort  of  husband  did 
I  make  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  You  see  the  dream  didn't 
last  long  enough." 

"  That  was  a  bad  job !  Because  if  you 
had  liked  me  in  the  dream,  you  might  have 
married  me  later  on." 

"  I  thought  that."  She  spoke  quite  gravely. 
"  But  you  see  I  know  I  should  like  you  as  a 
husband  " 


GOD'S   LITTLE   BOY  143 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  that." 

"  Who  asks  ?  Do  you  say  to  me  '  marry 
me/  or  do  I  say  to  you  '  marry  me '  ?  " 

"  M'well,  that  depends.  I  really  don't 
think  it  would  matter  much  ;  which  ever  way 
you  like  best." 

"  Of  course,  you  would  marry  me  if  I  asked 
you  ?  What  do  I  have  to  do — kneel  down, 
like  the  Prince  in  Cinderella  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  really  proper  way,  of  course. 
But  if  you  have  a  very  pretty  pinafore  on  it 
would  be  a  pity,  wouldn't  it  ?  Then  I  think 
you  could  manage  without  kneeling." 

"  I  see.  I  could  put  on  my  black  dress, 
though.  It's  got  some  sticky  stuff  I  spilt 
down  the  front." 

"  But  I  am  afraid  before  this  marriage 
takes  place  you  will  have  to  grow  a  little 
older." 

"  Of  course  !  " 

She  essayed  a  laugh.  The  mother  pricked 
up  her  ears  :  it  was  the  first  time  the  sound 
of  laughter  had  come  from  those  lips  for  many 
an  hour ;  the  child  continued : 

1  You  don't  think  I  am  so  silly  as  to  think 
I  can  be  married  in  short  frocks,  do  you  ? 
What  an  old  goose  you  are  !  Of  course,  I 
mean  when  I  am  bigger  and  wear  a  train." 

"  I  see.  Do  you  think  the  black  dress 
will  grow  too  ?  " 


144  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"N-no.  I  forgot  that— that's  my  fault. 
But  you  promised." 

"  Why  certainly.  I  most  cheerfully  promise 
that  I  will  marry  you,  if  you  ask  me  when 
you  are  a  big  girl." 

"  A  real,  real  promise  ?  " 

"  A  most  really,  real,  realiest  of  real 
promises.  If  you  ask  me  when  you  are  a 
big  girl,  to  marry  you,  I  promise  you  I  will." 

She  sighed  contentedly.  Nestling  to  him, 
closed  her  eyelids  as  she  said  : 

"  People  go  away  for  honey-dews,  don't 
they  ?  " 

He  smiled.  Gathered  that  she  had  confused 
names  by  reading  the  label  on  his  tobacco 
packet.  She  had  seen  him  fill  his  pouch,  and 
clamoured  for  the  silver  paper  to  make  im- 
pressions of  coins  on.  To  her  huge  satis- 
faction had  more  than  once  induced  him  to 
pick  up  her  coinage  in  the  belief  that  they 
were  real. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.  "  It  is  usual  for 
married  persons  to  go  away.  We  must 
consider  where  we  will  spend  our  honeymoon. 
You  have  been  to  the  Hippodrome,  haven't 
you  ?  " 

Her  eyes  opened  ;  sparkled  at  the  recol- 
lection. The  dustmen  were  banished  for  a 
moment  as  she  answered  : 

"  Twice  !    That's  where  I  saw  Cinderella  !  " 


GOD'S   LITTLE   BOY  145 

"  That  wouldn't  be  altogether  a  bad  place 
for  a  honeymoon,  would  it  ?  Then  there's 
the  Zoo — how  about  that  ?  " 

"  Lovely  !  You  are  a  very  dear  old  Prince 
Charlie.  I  think  if  I  couldn't  marry  you  I 
wouldn't  marry  anybody.  I  am  sorry  for 
all  the  other  little  girls  that  can't  marry  you. 
You  know  lots  of  little  girls,  don't  you  ?  " 

'  Yes.  But  then  you  are  my  real  sweet- 
heart, you  know." 

"I'm  glad.  'Cos  you  can't  marry  more 
than  one,  can  you  ?  I  hope  the  other  little 
girls  won't  cry,  all  the  same." 

"  I  don't  think  they  will.  Some  of  them 
are  bigger  than  you  ;  have  given  up  crying." 

"  Oh,  big  little  girls  cry  !  But  they  don't 
make  a  noise,  and  they  don't  like  you  to  see. 
I've  seen  mamma  cry  !  " 

Prince  Charlie  was  silent ;  he  too  had  seen 
the  mother's  tears.  The  child  prattled  on  : 

'  We  shall  have  to  go  all  the  way  to  Heaven 
when  we  are  married,  shan't  we  ?  " 

He  wondered  what  childish  idea  could 
.prompt  such  a  question  ;  asked : 

'  What  makes  you  think  that,  darling  ?  " 

"  When  we  went  to  church  last  Sunday — 
no,  it  was  the  Sunday  before  ;  the  man  in  the 
white  dress  said  so." 

"  Did  he  ?  " 

'  Yes  ;  he  did  really.     I  heard  him  quite 

K 


146  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

plainly.  He  said  '  marriages  are  made  in 
heaven.'  Is  heaven  very,  very  beautiful, 
Prince  Charlie  ?  " 

"  Much  more  beautiful  than  we  can  even 
think  it  is,  darling." 

"  All  the  good  little  girls  go  there,  don't 
they  ?  " 

"  Yes.    Most  certainly." 

"  When  doctors  come  to  people  they  are 
ill,  aren't  they  ?  And  they  die  sometimes  when 
they  are  ill,  don't  they  ?  ...  If  I  die  now 
shall  I  go  right  straight  to  heaven,  Prince 
Charlie  ?  " 

The  woman  kneeling  by  the  bedside  turned 
away  her  head.  The  trembling  hand  found 
her  throat  and  helped  to  stifle  the  sob  bursting 
there.  Life  and  death  were  fighting  for 
conquest.  Contemplation  of  the  battle  is 
ever  sad ;  sadder  because  the  watchers  can 
do  nought  to  turn  the  tide  of  victory.  Time 
was  arbiter ;  yet  the  little  one  was  speaking  as 
if  the  Grim  One's  victory  were  assured. 

There  was  a  little  quaver,  just  a  little 
huskiness,  in  Masters'  voice,  as  he  said  : 

"  Don't  talk  of  dying,  Grade." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  going  to  die  yet." 

The  child's  attempt  at  a  laugh  was  pitiful, 
by  reason  of  the  lack  of  mirth  in  it ;  she 
continued : 

"  I  shouldn't  be  able  to  marry  you  till  you 


GOD'S   LITTLE   BOY  147 

got  to  heaven  if  I  did,  should  I  ?  How  full 
it  must  be  up  there  of  little  boys  and  girls, 
Prince  Charlie." 

"  Yes,  darling." 

He  acquiesced  aloud ;  truthfully.  Then 
added,  under  his  breath  : 

"  Of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven." 

"  God  is  very  fond  of  children,  isn't 
He?" 

"  Very  fond." 

Again  there  came  to  him  a  suggestion ;  to 
himself  he  quoted : 

"  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  Me." 

'  You  are  very  fond  of  little  children  too, 
aren't  you  ? "  She  nestled,  if  possible,  a 
little  closer.  "  Mamma  says  she  knows  you 
are." 

"  Mamma  is  right,  darling.     Very  fond." 

"  But  you  don't  love  any  of  them  better 
than  you  do  me,  do  you  ?  " 

Her  blue  eyes  were  fixed  on  his  face  as  she 
looked  up,  eager  to  hear  his  reply ;  quite 
truthfully  he  answered  : 

"  Not  one.     Not  one." 

"  I    forgot."     A    little    sigh    of    content. 

'  You   told   me   that   before.     You   haven't 

any  children  of  your  real  own,  have  you  ?  " 

11  No  dear." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that." 

She  sighed  in  the  same  way  again.    Pillowed 


148  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

her  head  more  deeply  on  his  arm ;  inquired 
suddenly : 

"  God  has  a  Child  of  his  real  own,  hasn't 
He?" 

"  Yes,  love." 

"  A  little  boy  ?  " 

"  Was  a  little  boy  ;  yes,  darling." 

"  I  know.  Because  we  keep  His  birthday  ; 
same  as  we  keep  mine.  Only  mine  comes 
with  the  roses,  His  with  the  holly.  You 
know — it  is  on  Christmas  day." 

"  Yes  ;  we  all  of  us  keep  it,  dear." 

"  Prince  Charlie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  darling  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know  any  stories  about  God's 
Little  Boy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear  ;  some." 

"  Tell  me — a  nice  story  about  Him — will 
you  ?  No  giants  or  bears  in  it,  because  I 
feel  so  sleepy — and  I  am  too  tired  ...  So 
tired  ...  I  would  like  to  go  to  sleep — just 
like  this — in  your  arms." 

He  bent  his  head.  Kissed  the  flushed, 
sweet  little  face  he  was  cradling  in  the  hollow 
of  his  arm.  Then  told  the  story  of  the 
birth  of  God's  Little  Boy ;  in  a  manner 
adapted  to  the  little  ears  listening  to  it. 

Her  sleepiness  grew ;  the  blue  eyes  opened 
each  time  more  reluctantly.  As  the  little 
body  lost  its  stiffness,  he  blue-pencilled  the 


GOD'S   LITTLE   BOY  149 

story  down  to  the  stage  where  God's  Little 
Boy  was  lying  asleep  in  the  manger.  And 
the  watching  angels — even  as  the  narrator 
was — were  continually  saying  : 

"  Hus-s-h  !  " 

The  fact  that  he  repeated  this  part  of  the 
story  again  and  again  to  bring  in  the  soothing 
"  Hus-s-sh  "  passed  unnoticed  by  Gracie. 
Her  eyes  had  closed ;  she  was  asleep.  The 
doctor  had  said  sleep  would  be  her  salvation. 

The  crucial  time — midnight — and  she  slept ! 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE  PASSING  OF  THE  NIGHT 

THE  tone  of  the  story-teller's  voice  had 
grown  softer  and  softer ;  had  dropped 
lower  and  lower ;  then  stopped  altogether. 

The  silence  caused  the  woman,  whose 
pent-up  emotion  had  been  finding  vent  in 
silent  tears,  to  uplift  her  head.  Her  very 
soul  was  gladdened  by  the  picture  upon 
which  her  eyes  rested. 

The  man  had  drawn  the  coverlet  up  so 
that  it  shielded  the  wearied  little  eyes  from 
the  light.  Her  child  was  asleep  !  Peacefully 
sleeping  in  the  arms  of  Prince  Charlie. 

She  had  been  kneeling  with  her  face  buried 
in  her  hands,  on  the  same  side  of  the  bed  as 
he  sat.  Now  she  had  but  to  bend  to  reach 
his  disengaged  hand.  The  burning,  feverish 
lips  were  pressed  to  it,  with  all  the  heartfelt 
fervour  inspired  by  a  mother's  gratitude  : 
surely  the  very  strongest  inspiration  in  the 
world. 

Ere  she  took  her  lips  away  he  felt,  drop— 


THE   PASSING   OF   THE    NIGHT    151 

drop — drop.  Three  tears  on  his  hand  ! 
Tears  from  the  eyes  of  the  woman  to  whom, 
in  her  grief,  his  heart  opened.  Despite  the 
fact  that  he  had  thought  it  closed  against 
her  for  ever. 

His  heart  was  very  full  just  then.  A 
veritable  agony  of  love  was  in  his  eyes  as 
he  looked  at  her.  Passionate  words  were 
framed  in  his  thoughts ;  rose  to  his  lips  and 
were  choked  back. 

Except  for  that  strained  expression  in  his 
eyes,  his  face  was  calm  as  stone  ;  the  pallor 
likened  it  to  marble.  But  the  woman's  head 
was  bent ;  his  suffering  was  unseen  by  her. 

It  pained  him — her  gratitude.  He  had 
done  so  little  to  deserve  it.  Indeed  would 
have  been  a  brute  had  he  done  less.  No 
thanks  were  due  to  him  ;  acceptance  of  them 
made  him  feel  himself  in  a  false  position. 
But  he  could  do  nothing  to  restrain  her — 
for  fear  of  waking  Gracie. 

She  moved  a  little  away,  glancing  again 
at  the  sleeping  child  with  a  deep  sigh  of 
thankfulness.  A  slight  movement  of  his 
head,  a  look  in  his  eyes,  beckoned  her  to 
come  closer. 

She  understood.  Noiselessly  walked  be- 
hind him  ;  stood  so,  leaning  over  the  bed 
rail.  Her  head  was  close  to  his,  as  he  asked 
in  an  undertone  : 


152  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  The  medicine  ?  " 

"  She  should  take  it  in  two  hours." 

"  She  must." 

He  said  that  in  a  whisper,  with  a  meaning 
glance  at  the  child's  flushed  face. 

"  Will  it  be  wise  to  awaken  her  ?  " 

"  Distinctly ;  in  case  of  fever.  Besides,  at 
this  stage,  the  more  she  sleeps  the  more 
easily  she  will  go  to  sleep  again.  Poor  little 
mite !  This  is  not  half  so  comfortable  a 
position  for  her  as  if  she  were  lying  down,  but 
I  can't  move  her  till  the  slumber  feeling 
gets  a  tighter  hold  on  her.  I  shall  awaken 
her  at  medicine  time,  and  she  will  go  to  sleep 
quickly  enough  by  then  in  any  position. 
Drink  ?  " 

"  Milk.     There  is  some." 

She  pointed  to  a  jug  standing  on  a  table 
near  by.  His  eyes  followed  the  direction  of 
her  hand ;  he  nodded. 

"  Good.  Now,  lie  you  down  on  the  sofa. 
Try  and  get  some  sleep  yourself." 

She  drew  back  in  astonishment  at  his 
suggestion.  Shook  her  head ;  then  ex- 
postulated : 

"  I  could  not !  " 

"  You  must  1  " 

"  I  cou— " 

"  You  don't  want  to  annoy — to  seriously 
annoy  me,  do  you  ?  " 


THE  PASSING   OF   THE   NIGHT    153 

The  voice  was  very  earnest ;  that  voice 
which  she  found  so  wonderfully  deep  and 
thrilling.  Even  in  its  whisper  there  was, 
for  her,  all  the  power  of  great  music ;  even 
in  the  lightest  words  he  spoke. 

She  brushed  a  tear  from  her  eyes.  Once 
more  impulsively  bent  and  kissed  the  hand 
which  was  resting  on  the  rail.  He  whispered : 

"  Let  me  ask  you  to  lie  down — to  oblige 
me.  Will  you  do  that  ?  You  have  not 
slept  for  long.  I,  as  you  know,  am  a  veritable 
owl ;  a  complete  night-bird.  My  consump- 
tion of  midnight  oil  is  a  standing  joke.  It 
is  easier  for  me  to  keep  awake  than  to  go  to 
sleep — oblige  me." 

All  the  boy  in  him  had  departed  for  the 
time.  Yet  there  was  no  effort,  no  conscious 
assumption  of  manly  dignity.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  suited  him  well.  Seemed  merely 
another  phase  of  his  character. 

Her  answer  was  in  as  earnest  a  tone  as  he 
himself  used ;  strangely  earnest  considering 
the  smallness  of  his  request ;  she  said : 

"  I  would  do  anything — anything  in  the 
world  you  asked  me." 

'  Then  lie  down.  Remember  that  the 
greatest  pleasure  you  can  give  me  will  be  to 
see  you  asleep.  That  is  not  very  com- 
plimentary to  you,  is  it  ?  " 

That  was  said  in  an  endeavour  to  make 


154  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

her  smile.  He  was  sorry  he  had  spoken  so 
when  he  saw  how  the  lips  curved.  Sad 
smiles  are  not  pretty  things ;  he  continued 
hastily  : 

"  And  you  may  sleep  in  peace.  Your 
fears  may  be  at  rest ;  Gracie  is  doing  well. 
Short  as  has  been  her  sleep,  so  far,  I  feel  the 
temperature  is  lower — her  breathing  to  be 
more  regular.  Now  go." 

Dutifully,  obediently,  she  went.  There 
are  some  men  who  must  be  obeyed  without 
question.  Masters  was  of  those — when 
he  chose.  That  was  not  often.  He  was  of 
so  kindly  a  nature  that  he  never  cared  to 
press  his  authority  :  unless  occasion  rendered 
that  course  absolutely  necessary. 

The  sofa  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  room. 
He  furtively  watched  her  for  a  long  time,  as 
she  lay  there  with  her  eyes  wide  open. 
Watched  her  unavailing  fight  against  sleep ; 
smiled  when  at  last  she  succumbed,  when 
Nature  conquered.  She  went  to  sleep:  a 
sound  sleep  bred  of  that  previous  wakeful- 
ness  and  anxiety. 

Time  passed.  The  hands  of  the  clock  on 
the  mantel  crept  round  slowly  minute  by 
minute,  twice.  Then,  very  quietly,  very 
gently,  he  woke  the  child.  She  was  so 
sleepy  and  drowsy  that  his  heart  smote  him ; 
it  seemed  almost  cruel  to  rouse  her. 


THE    PASSING   OF   THE   NIGHT      155 

The  eyes  opened  widely  for  a  minute  in 
surprise  at  seeing  him  there.  Then  she 
remembered ;  the  lids  half  closed  again. 
She  stretched  her  hand  a  little  higher  up 
his  shoulder  and  said  : 

"  You're  still  here,  Prince  Charlie.'* 

"  Yes,  darling.  I  am  going  to  stop  all 
night.  We  must  not  speak  loudly  ;  Mamma 
is  asleep  ;  and  she  is  so  tired." 

"  So  am  I,  Prince  Charlie.  Peepy  and 
thirsty.  Will  you  give  me  some  milk  ?  " 

"  After  this  medicine,  dear  .  .  .  There. 
Now  the  milk  .  .  .  My !  What  a  thirsty 
little  girlie.  What  ?  More  !  ...  We  shall 
have  to  buy  another  cow  !  " 

He  smoothed  her  pillow,  laid  her  com- 
fortably down  and  stroked  her  brow.  Was 
glad  to  note  how  fast  the  feverishness  was 
leaving  her ;  she  was  distinctly  cooler.  In 
less  than  a  minute  she  was  peacefully  asleep 
again. 

A  good  nurse,  was  Masters.  Many  trained 
to  the  calling  might  have  taken  hints  from 
him.  Some  men  are  born  that  way. 

He  had  in  his  composition  just  the  right 
proportions  of  firmness,  kindness,  and  that 
constant  thoughtfulness  for  others  which  go 
to  make  up  the  ideal  attendant. 

Moreover,  he  had  a  way,  through  some 
subtle  influence  of  his  personality,  of  making 


156  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

his  will  felt  without  irritating  by  its  actual 
expression.  He  rarely  raised  opposition ; 
rather  it  fell  away  before  him. 

Gracie  was  not  the  only  being  who  suc- 
cumbed to  this  man's  latent  force  of  character. 
Most  people  with  whom  he  came  in  contact 
felt  its  power,  wholly  unaware  of  it  as  he 
was  himself. 

Yet  another  satisfied  glance  at  the  sleeping 
figure,  then  he  made  preparations  for  the 
night.  Quietly  drawing  off  his  boots,  walked 
across  the  room  to  the  fireplace.  Converted 
his  fingers  into  tongs,  and  so  from  the  coalbox 
noiselessly  replenished  the  fire.  Then  he 
sat  down  to  watch  ;  to  watch  and  think. 

For  hours  he  sat  there  without  stirring. 
Made  no  movement  lest  he  should  disturb 
the  sleepers.  He  was  over-anxious  perhaps — 
afraid  to  make  the  smallest  sound. 

His  reflections  were  not  altogether  in  the 
groove  they  had  followed  hitherto.  He  had 
felt  certainty  where  now  he  felt  doubt. 
There  were,  too,  throbbing  moments  when 
he  doubted  not  the  woman,  but  himself. 

But  ever  the  truth,  the  bitter  truth,  rose 
up  before  him,  like  a  great  black  veil.  In  it 
was  no  loophole  for  charity.  Besides,  love 
asks  for  love — not  for  compassion.  Could 
she  know  what  was  in  his  mind,  she  would 
scornfully  refuse  his  pity.  He  knew  that ; 


THE   PASSING   OF   THE   NIGHT     157 

had  no  doubt  of  it,  low  as  he  deemed  her  to 
have  fallen. 

She  would  reject  so  poor  a  substitute  for 

love,  and  she  would  be  right.    There  would 

be  no  hesitation  ;  he  knew  that  instinctively. 

?  He  had  once  seen  the  blaze  of  anger  in  those 

^now    closed    eyes ;    the    memory    remained 

with  him.     Yet  that  substitute  was  all  he 

had  to  offer  her  ;  all  he  felt  for  her  now — 

so  he  told  himself. 

Was  it  ?  Was  it  in  very  truth  ?  He  asked 
himself  the  question,  and  his  throbbing 
heart  made  answer.  But  his  lips  formed 
another  reply,  although  unspoken.  They 
were  tightly  shut,  firmly  set.  The  tenseness 
was  the  reply  itself. 

Yet — he  could  not  help  it — he  wondered 
whether  it  could  be  possible.  That  the 
woman,  from  whose  face  he  scarcely  took  his 
eyes,  was  what  he  thought  her.  Whose 
emotion  and  love  for  her  child  had  been  so 
real  and  earnest,  whose  gratitude  had  shown 
itself  in  her  humility  to  him.  To  him !  He 
who  had  so  grossly  insulted  her  that  night 
on  the  seat. 

Even  in  sleep,  tell-tale  sleep,  when  that 
watchful  control  which  we  may  keep  on  our 
waking  expression  is  no  longer  possible, 
even  then  the  lines  of  her  face  were  all  of 
purity  and  gentleness. 


158  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

The  lips  were  closed  in  sweet  soft  curves  ; 
a  faint  flush  was  on  her  pale  cheeks ;  her 
white  brow  was  wholly  serene.  It  was  surely 
as  innocent  a  face  as  the  little  one's  to  which 
—he  saw  it  now  for  the  first  time — -it  bore  so 
striking  a  likeness.  Was  it  possible  that 
a  woman  could  sin,  or  be  sinned  against, 
and  remain  unsullied  ? 

When  the  time  for  medicine  came  round 
again,  he  gently  touched  the  child  with  intent  to 
waken  her.  Then  drew  away  his  hand.  He  felt 
that  she  was  so  much  cooler,  the  flush  had 
almost  gone  from  her  face,  that  he  deter- 
mined not  to  disturb  her.  To  let  her  awaken 
of  her  own  accord  ...  So  the  night  passed. 

During  all  those  long  hours,  Masters  might 
have  applied  wisdom  to  a  grasping  of  the 
situation.  But  it  has  been  well  said  that 
wisdom  does  not  pour  knowledge  from  above 
as  the  clouds  let  down  rain.  It  is  to  be  delved 
for  patiently  and  with  hard  toil,  at  the  cost  of 
flinty  hands  and,  mayhap,  of  skinned 
knuckles. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE   BREAKING  OF  THE   DAY 

THE  eastern  sky  was  painted  rosier  and 
rosier ;  day  broke.  Still  the  sleepers 
slept,  and  the  watcher  watched.  Never 
moved  he  except  when  need  arose  to  feed  the 
fire. 

Seven  o'clock.  Eight  o'clock.  Then 
Gracie  woke.  Grade,  save  for  weakness,  her 
own  bright,  clear-headed,  intelligent  little 
self.  He  was  once  more  making  up  the  fire. 
Turned  round  at  the  sound  of  her  voice,  to 
find  her  sitting  up  in  bed  laughing  at  him. 

"Prince  Charlie!  I'm  ashamed  of  you! 
You  dir-ty  boy!  Don't  you  know  what  tongs 
are  made  f or  ?  " 

Then  she  laughed  at  him  again  !  A  faint 
little  laugh  though,  and  so  exhausting  that 
after  it  she  fell  back  on  the  pillows,  scant  of 
breath. 

The  laugh  aroused  the  mother,  trained  by 
love  to  awaken  at  the  least  sound.  She 
sprang  to  her  feet  and  hastened  to  the  bedside. 


160  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

When  she  saw  the  change  for  the  better  in  her 
child,  the  smile  on  the  little  face,  thankfulness 
overwhelmed  her. 

Never  had  waking  moments  been  more 
sweet.  It  was  less  like  waking  than  like  a 
dream  itself.  She  hugged  Grade  to  her 
bosom  ;  just  escaped  crying  over  her. 

Masters  smilingly  humoured  the  child — a 
little  tyranny  is  a  welcome  sign  in  a  patient ; 
said,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word  : 

"  Well,  I'll  use  the  coal  scoop,  as  you 
object  so  to  my  hands." 

"  Look  at  your  fingers  !  Isn't  he  a  dirty  boy, 
mamma  ?  I  mustn't  let  him  touch  my  clean 
nightgown,  must  I  ?  " 

It  was  a  challenge  !  Masters  saw  through 
the  ruse.  Her  desire  was  that  he  should 
make  pretence  he  wanted  to  catch  hold  of  her. 
Then  she  would  struggle  to  escape  him.  It 
was  a  game  she  was  very  fond  of — he  was  to 
catch  her  after  a  long  while — and  then  the 
romp  would  begin  all  over  again.  Fearing 
to  excite  her,  he  took  no  notice  of  the  thrown- 
down  glove  ;  merely  remarked  : 

"  Well,  you  look  all  the  better  for  your 
sleep."  Added,  with  a  smile  :  "  Both  of  you, 
I  mean." 

The  mother's  heart  was  too  full  to  speak. 
Her  child  was  hers  once  more.  Had  come 
back  to  her  from  out  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 


THE    BREAKING   OF   THE   DAY     161 

of  Death.  After  a  long  pause  she  managed 
to  look  up  at  him,  tears  bedewing  her  eyes, 
and  inquire  : 

"  And  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  worry  about  me  !  I  am  as  right  as 
right  can  be.  Just  let  me  go  to  your  bath- 
room, will  you  ?  I  shall  emerge  from  it  as 
fresh  as  the  proverbial  lark." 

"  You  will  stop  to  breakfast — " 

Grade  caught  the  suggestion  in  a  moment ; 
interposed  eagerly  : 

"  Oh,  yes,  Prince  Charlie !  You  will ! 
Won't  you  ?  Have  breakfast  with  me — out 
of  my  own  tea  service." 

"  Very  well.  I'll  have  a  bath,  and  then 
come  and  breakfast  with  you,  Gracie — out  of 
your  very  own  cups  and  saucers  and  plates. 
That's  understood." 

He  went  to  the  bath-room.  His  matutinal 
cold  water  sponge  was  a  thing  he  would  have 
missed  dreadfully.  During  his  absence,  the 
doctor  paid  an  early  morning  visit. 

Masters  was  pleased  when  he  returned  to 
the  sick  room  to  see  the  happy  look  on  the 
mother's  face.  Gracie  was  out  of  danger  the 
doctor  had  said.  Was  going  on  splendidly — 
thanks,  she  said,  to 

"  To  Prince  Charlie,  mamma  !  I  heard  the 
doctor  say  so.  He's  a  fairy  prince  who  comes 
and  saves  little  girls." 


162  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Gracie  held  Prince  Charlie  with  one  hand ; 
her  mother's  with  the  other,  as  she  spoke  : 

"  Prince  Charlie,  I  want  to  kiss  you." 

He  submitted  to  the  wish  of  the  little 
autocrat.  Both  her  arms  went  round  his 
neck  as  she  gave  him  what  she  called  her 
extra  nicest. 

After  that  there  was  a  happy  breakfast 
party.  The  cups  were  very  small ;  Gracie, 
propped  up  with  pillows,  had  to  fill  them  many 
times.  But  that  was  just  as  well ;  the  greater 
demand,  the  greater  her  pleasure. 

The  plates,  too,  were  not  quite  large  enough 
to  hold  ordinary  slices  of  bread  and  butter. 
But  then,  as  Gracie  explained,  you  could  hold 
your  bread  in  your  hands,  couldn't  you  ? 

As  for  the  cups,  small  cups  were  very 
fashionable — mamma  had  told  her  so.  It 
wasn't  good  manners  to  eat  and  drink  too 
much  ;  even  if  you  were  ever  so  hungry. 
But  it  was  quite  good  form  to  say  the  tea  was 
hot  even  if  it  was  quite  cold.  That  was  part 
of  the  game. 

The  child's  daily  improvement  was  of  the 
rapid  kind.  In  less  than  a  week  she  was 
skipping  about  the  room.  In  ten  days,  well 
wrapped  up,  was  playing — literally  skipping — 
on  the  sun-lit  sands.  ^ 

And  during  the  ten  days  ?  The  author  and 
the  mother  drifted  apart !  As  the  child's 


THE   BREAKING   OF   THE   DAY     163 

convalesence  became  assured  his  visits  grew 
less  in  number  ;  shorter  in  length. 

From  visiting  three  times  a  day  his  calls 
came  down  to  once.  His  usual  hour's  visits 
were  curtailed.  He  stayed  but  a  quarter  of 
that  time. 

When  the  child  asked  a  reason,  he  was  busy, 
he  said.  But  the  mother,  listening,  was  not 
for  a  moment  deceived.  Read  in  his  eyes 
that  there  had  been  no  removal  of  his  doubt 
of  her.  Her  pride  rose — rose  higher  and 
higher  and  higher  day  by  day. 

Her  struggle  was  a  hard  one,  to  keep  the 
bitter  resentful  feeling  down.  She  endeav- 
oured to  stifle  it  with  thought  of  the  gratitude 
she  owed  him.  But  it  was  hard,  terribly  hard. 
She  was  not  of  a  lachrymose  temperament  at 
all,  but  her  eyes  often  tear-filled  when  she 
thought  of  him. 

He  was  cold  to  her  ;  grew  more  so  ;  coldly 
courteous  and  reserved.  Instinctively  he 
feared  his  own  weakness.  Kept  so  close  a 
guard  upon  himself,  so  firm  a  brake  upon  his 
feelings,  that  intercourse  with  him  became 
depressing  and  wearying. 

There  was  no  longer  the  old  easy  flow  of 
talk  ;  words  came  with  difficulty  ;  conversa- 
tion was  an  effort  on  both  sides.  Forced 
conversation  is  usually  a  failure. 

She  saw  clearly  that  but  for  his  love  for  the 


164  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

child — and  that,  she  knew,  was  genuine — he 
would  not  have  come  to  the  house  at  all.  She 
felt  that  all  the  while  he  spoke  to  her  cour- 
teously and  politely,  he  was  suspicious  of  her. 
She  showed  nothing  of  her  indignation  ;  that 
would  only  have  been  acknowledgment  of  the 
hit. 

Suspicious  of  what  ?  She  asked  herself; 
asked  not  once,  but  a  .hundred  times  a  day. 
Her  pride  would  not  allow  her  to  put  the 
question  to  him  ;  so  they  drifted  further  and 
further  apart.  To  her  it  seemed  as  with 
Ichabod  :  the  glory  had  departed. 

Sorry  ?  She  was  heart-broken  over  it.  She 
had  not  learned  to  love  him :  she  had  cared 
for  him  all  along.  More  even  than  she  had 
known,  more  than  she  knew  even  now.  The 
sweet,  helpful  gentleness  of  his  care  for  her 
child  when  sick,  had  shown  him  in  a  light  in 
which  few  women  would  have  failed  to  admire 
— nay,  more  than  that :  to  love  him. 

He  was  a  veritable  Prince  to  her  ;  she  could 
have  worshipped  him.  Her  soul  had  gone 
out  to  him — and  his  to  her — so  naturally  she 
had  scarce  noticed  its  passage.  She  felt 
she  had  known  him  all  her  life ;  so  perfectly 
their  thoughts  and  views  seemed  to  dovetail 
one  another. 

There  had  been  no  shaping  and  moulding 
and  rubbing  off  of  corners ;  no  making  of 


THE   BREAKING   OF   THE   DAY     165 

rough  edges  to  fit  evenly  ;  all  that  is  usually 
the  work  of  time.  It  is  said  that  there  is  no 
soul  but  somewhere  on  this  crowded  earth 
another  soul  responds  unto  its  needs.  The 
meeting  is  still  a  rarity,  but  kindly  old  Time 
goes  on  with  his  everlasting  pruning  and 
polishing  and  planing  down  to  suit  mutual 
requirements. 

He  has  them — has  the  man  with  the  scythe 
and  hour  glass — in  his  workshop  ;  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  young  couples.  He  lets 
them  rub  along  together,  Fate  having  joined 
them,  until  the  roughnesses  are  all  worn  away 
and  it  is  scarcely  noticeable — certainly  not  by 
the  young  people  themselves — that  they  were 
not  expressly  made  for  each  other. 

The  manufactured  article  produced  in  that 
workshop  of  Old  Time  is  durable  and  generally 
gives  satisfaction.  Looks  so  much  like  the 
real  thing  that  most  people  want  nothing 
better.  Some  people  prefer  it  even,  take  more 
pride  in  it. 

Besides,  the  Merchandise  Marks  Act  is  not 
in  force  in  regard  to  this  particular  class  of 
goods,  so  there  is  not  much  loss.  It  all  bears 
the  same  label,  and  there  is  no  penalty  for 
deceiving  the  public.  It  is  all  marked — hall 
marked  :  Love. 

Sometimes,  however,  it  happens  that  two 
souls  come  together  whom  Nature  has  really 


166  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

designed  and  moulded  each  to  each.  It  is 
fraught  with  much  sweetness,  such  a  meeting  ; 
sweetness  as  of  music.  The  harmonies  are  so 
perfect  and  so  pure,  it  seems  no  power  in 
Heaven  or  Earth  could  destroy  the  enduring 
melody  by  a  jarring  note. 

The  swelling  tones  would  rise  and  fall  and 
echo,  long  after  the  discordance  had  subsided. 
Real  love  is  very  rare,  rarer  than  gold  and 
diamonds,  but  it  is  found  sometimes.  In 
out-of-the-way  places,  too ;  wholly  unsought, 
conjoining  the  hearts  of  man  and  woman  by 
the  closeness  and  perfection  of  their  union  and 
coincidence. 

She  had  come  to  think,  and  he  had  thought 
so,  too,  that  God  had  framed  them  so,  the 
one  to  the  other.  Fight  the  idea  as  she  would, 
in  her  woman's  weakness  she  thought  so  still. 
He,  in  his  manly  strength,  endeavoured  to 
crush  the  thought  as  it  rose  in  his  bosom. 

But  it  was  there  to  crush. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

PLAYING   THE   SPY 

WHEN  the  child  had  passed  all  the  sign- 
posts on  the  road  of  convalescence, 
had  reached  perfect  health,  Masters  ceased  his 
visits  to  the  bungalow.  His  interest  in  Grade 
induced  him  not  to  avoid  meeting  her  on  the 
front. 

The  child  was  all  warmth  and  affection  and 
love  for  the  man  she  was  going  to  marry. 
The  mother  hid  her  aching  heart  behind  a 
smile  :  a  woman's  usual  veil.  It  was  not 
what  a  novelist  describes  as  a  sad  sweet  smile  ; 
it  had  degenerated  into  an  hysterical,  jerky, 
clattering,  little  laugh. 

The  weather  continued  fine  ;  the  author 
prolonged  his  stay.  For  that  reason — anyway, 
for  his  own  satisfaction  he  set  down  that  as 
the  cause — he  stayed  on  at  Wivernsea. 

Not  a  day  passed  but  he  met  his  little 
sweetheart.  Not  a  day  passed  but  the  breach 
between  the  man  and  woman  widened.  Soon 


168  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

the  conventional  greeting  at  meeting  and 
parting  came  to  be  dreaded  by  each. 

They  dared  not  look  into  each  other's  eyes. 
As  hands  met  for  those  two  brief  moments, 
each  involuntarily  looked  away  from  the 
other.  Fingers  were  clasped  limply ;  fell 
away  awkwardly.  Heartiness,  even  of  the 
faintest  description,  was  sadly  lacking  in  the 
shake. 

One  morning  he  had  a  letter  from  his 
lawyers.  It  called  for  his  attendance  in 
London  ;  a  question  of  making  an  affidavit 
over  some  copyright  infringement.  He 
resolved  to  catch  the  fast  train  up,  and  so  be 
able  to  get  back  by  the  fast  evening  train 
down. 

He  was  at  the  station  early,  having  inquiries 
to  make.  A  parcel  of  books  sent  down  to 
him  had,  by  reason  of  the  railway  company's 
vagaries,  not  reached  him.  Those  inquiries 
made  and  satisfied,  he  purchased  newspapers. 

Messrs.  Smith  and  Son  occupied  a  space  in 
the  booking  office.  As  he  dealt  with  the 
juvenile  representative  of  the  great  Strand 
firm,  he  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the 
ticket  pigeon-hole.  He  was  presently  startled 
by  hearing  a  voice  he  recognized,  saying : 

"  First-class,  return,  London,  please." 

He  turned  round  sharply,  expecting  to  see 
the  mistress  of  Ivy  Cottage  ;  he  could  have 


PLAYING   THE   SPY  169 

sworn  to  her  voice  anywhere.  A  woman 
plainly  dressed,  almost  shabbily,  with  a  long 
thick  veil,  stood  purchasing  the  ticket.  She 
repeated  the  demand ;  the  ticket  seller  had  not 
caught  the  words. 

Hearing  it  a  second  time,  Masters  had  no 
shadow  of  doubt  about  the  voice's  owner. 
There  were  no  two  voices  like  it  in  the  world. 
But  the  costume  amazed  him  ;  could  only  be 
explained  one  way. 

Not  a  pleasant  way,  either.  It  was  a 
disguise  !  Masters  felt  certain  of  it.  She  had 
always  been  well,  expensively  dressed.  Now, 
by  reason  of  that,  the  change  was  the  more 
striking. 

There  were  three  minutes  before  the  train 
was  due ;  five  minutes  passed  before  it 
arrived.  The  shabbily-dressed  woman  paced 
the  platform.  Masters  watched  her  from  the 
waiting-room  window  ;  five  minutes  of  utter 
misery. 

The  station  bell  rang  a  second  time,  the 
train  came  in.  The  veiled  woman  hurried 
to  a  first-class  carriage  in  front  of  the  train. 
The  guard  opened  a  door  and  she  entered  one 
of  its  compartments.  A  moment  after 
Masters  had  entered  another. 

His  purchases  at  the  bookstall  lay  on  the 
seat  beside  him  all  the  way  to  London ;  he 
did  not  read  a  line  of  them.  For  two  whole 


170  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

hours  he  sat  stonily  looking  out  of  the  window, 
thinking.  Thinking,  as  well  as  the  numb 
feeling  of  wretchedness  and  horror  holding 
him  would  allow. 

It  was  the  first  really  cold  day  of  the 
approaching  winter.  With  a  view  to  travel- 
ling in  comfort,  Masters  had  unpacked,  and 
was  wearing  a  long  heavy  ulster.  It  changed 
his  appearance  altogether.  He  knew  that, 
and,  bred  of  the  knowledge,  there  came  a 
desire  to  track  the  woman  in  the  other  com- 
partment. 

With  his  coat-collar  up,  she  would  not  be 
likely  to  recognize  him.  It  would  be  possible 
to  follow  her  and  see  what  this  mysterious 
disguise  and  flight  to  London  meant ;  whether 
she  was  really  as  black  as  his  suspicion  painted 
her,  as  appearances  represented  her. 

Was  it  a  gentlemanly  thing  to  do  ?  ... 
He  did  not  pause  to  answer  his  own  question. 
Curiosity  and  the  desire,  the  necessity,  to 
either  set  at  rest  or  confirm  his  fears  out- 
weighed everything.  Any  certainty  is  better 
than  suspense ;  we  always  say  so  and  feel  it 
so — until  that  certainty  is  known. 

His  mind  was  quickly  made  up  :  to  follow 
her.  Besides,  how  could  he  tell  but  what  she 
might  have  need  of  him ;  the  disguise  led  to 
the  thought  of  such  a  possibility.  Masters' 
was  a  fertile  brain  ;  a  dozen  such  possibilities 


PLAYING    THE   SPY  171 

entered  his  mind  at  once.  Disguise  very 
frequently  meant  danger.  If  that  were  the 
case  it  was  his  duty,  as  a  man,  to  shield  her. 

He  would  not  fail  her — so  he  argued  with 
himself.  A  desire  to  do  any  particular  thing 
causes  us  to  find  reasons  for  its  justification  ; 
excellent  reason.  He  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  follow  her. 

At  Charing  Cross  the  woman  in  the  front 
part  of  the  train  alighted  .  .  .  Got  into  a 
hansom  cab  .  .  .  Masters  got  into  another. 
A  disturbing  recollection  came  to  him  of  a 
private  detective  in  one  of  his  own  books  who 
had  acted  in  similar  fashion.  But  he  was  not 
deterred  by  it. 

"  Where  to,  sir  ?  " 

Through  the  trap  in  the  cab  roof  the  inquiry 
came.  Looking  up  he  answered  the  driver  : 

"  Keep  that  hansom  in  sight.  I  want  to 
see,  and  not  be  seen — do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  I'm  fly." 

As  the  Jehu  answered  he  shut  one  eye. 
Then,  as  he  closed  the  trap,  said  to  himself : 

"  Man  from  the  Yard — what's  she  been 
a-doin'  of,  I  wonder  ?  " 

The  first  cab  went  over  Westminster  Bridge, 
turned  into  Lambeth,  pulled  up  outside  a 
corner  public  house.  The  second  cab  slowed 
down  and  passed  the  first  at  walking  pace. 
The  woman  was  paying  her  fare.  Then  she 


172  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

entered  a  door  on  the  glass  panels  of  which 
were  inscribed  the  words  : 

BOTTLE   AND   JUG   DEPARTMENT 

Masters'  cabman  knew  his  business ; 
promptly  reined  in  his  horse  just  round  the 
corner. 

"  That  do  you,  sir  ?  " 

He  put  the  question  as  Masters  alighted, 
and  was  feeling  in  his  trousers  pocket ; 
the  driver  continued  : 

"  She's  gone  into  the  Green  Dragon  round 
the  corner,  she  has.  We  passed  the  pub  a 
minute  agone." 

Masters  winced.  Then  reflected  that  the 
cabman  was  only  fulfilling  his  duty  zealously, 
Rewarded  him  with  a  half-sovereign. 

"  Going  back,  sir?" 

Golden  fares  are  rare  enough  to  be  worth 
looking  after  for  a  return  journey. 

"  Perhaps— I  don't  know." 

"I'll  be  stopping  here,  sir — here,  for  half- 
an-hour  if  you  should  want  me,  sir." 

Masters  nodded  .  .  .  Passed  through  a 
door  brass-plated  with  the  words  : 

HOTEL   ENTRANCE. 

A  flight  of  stairs  faced  him.  To  the  left 
was  another  door,  glass-lettered  with  the 
word: 

SALLOON. 

Into    the    saloon   Masters  went.      Square 


PLAYING    THE   SPY  173 

panels  of  bevelled  ground  glass  pivoted  on 
their  centres  along  the  top  of  the  bar,  shield- 
ing the  occupants  of  the  saloon  from  the  gaze 
of  those  in  the  opposite  bar. 

As  he  entered,  Masters  heard  the  woman 
he  had  followed  enquiring  over  the  bar  : 

"  Mr.  Rigby  ?  He  is  staying  here — he 
expects  me." 

The  hesitation  in  the  enquiring  voice  made 
the  barman  look  up.  Nervousness  in  women 
is  rather  an  uncommon  thing  to  find  in  the 
bar  of  a  Surrey-side  public-house. 

"  Oh,  yes.  But  you've  come  in  the  wrong 
way.  Round  the  corner  and  in  at  the  hotel 
entrance.  You'll  find  him  on  the  second 
floor,  room  15." 

She  went  out.  The  bar-tender  crossing  to 
him,  Masters  called  for  a  whisky  and  soda. 
Tasted,  then  tilted  the  glass,  and  let  the 
contents  be  soaked  up  by  the  sawdust  on  the 
floor.  It  was  not  a  drink  which  he  thought 
likely  to  benefit  him.  The  Lambeth  blend 
of  whisky  did  not  somehow  seem  to  tickle 
his  palate. 

Watching  through  the  saloon  door,  he 
presently  saw  the  veiled  woman  come  in 
through  the  hotel  entrance,  and  ascend  the 
stairs.  Allowing  half-a-minute  to  elapse,  he 
passed  out  and  followed  in  her  steps. 
As  he  commenced  the  ascent  of  the  second 


174  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

flight  he  heard  a  door  close  ;  guessed  it  to  be 
the  door  of  room  No.  15. 

Reaching  the  passage  on  the  second  floor 
he  noted  that  the  door  of  room  No.  14  was  shut. 
No.  15  was  shut  too.  No.  16  was  open.  He 
paused  on  its  threshold.  Cast  an  eye  round ; 
not  a  soul  was  in  the  passage  ;  entered.  Then 
the  door  of  No.  16  was  shut  too ;  shut,  and  the 
key  turned  on  the  inside. 

A  hurried  glance  satisfied  him  that  it  was 
an  unoccupied  room.  He  was  glad  of  that ; 
an  explanation  that  he  had  entered  to  wash 
his  hands  would  suffice,  should  need  of 
such  excuse  arise.  All  the  rooms,  he  guessed, 
were  bedrooms  on  that  floor. 

A  door  was  in  the  dividing  wall  of  Nos.  15 
and  16.  To  that  Masters  applied  his  ear.  A 
sense  of  the  contemptibility  of  the  action  was 
strong  upon  him ;  yet  he  could  not  refrain 
from  acting  so. 

Something  crossed  his  mind  about  the  end 
justifying  the  means.  It  was  a  principle  he 
had  always  violently  combated ;  practice 
and  theory  are  sometimes  at  variance.  Shame 
was  merged  into  a  feeling  of  gladness  :  that 
there  was  no  key  in  the  lock  ;  it  made  hearng 
easier.  And  he  meant  to  go  the  whole  length  ; 
to  listen. 

As  he  did  so,  reflected  that  such  a  despic- 
able act  as  eavesdropping  would  have  been 


PLAYING   THE   SPY  175 

impossible  to  him  a  month  ago.     Suggested 
to  himself  that  she  had  brought  him  to  it. 

That  is    men's    way — even    the    best    of 
them. . 


CHAPTER   XX 

A  HORRIBLE   REVELATION 

THE  man  she  had  inquired  for  in  the  bar, 
Rigby — he    guessed  it   was   he — was 
speaking.      A   husky-toned   voice,   but    the 
listener  could  plainly  catch  the  words  : 

"  There !  Don't  cry,  old  girl.  I  have 
broken  my  promise  to  you,  I  know.  You 
thought  I  had  gone  out  of  England,  and  I 
haven't.  Well,  I  am  going — going  early  to- 


morrow." 


"  Dick  !  " 

"  Gospel  truth,  old  girl.  When  I  said 
good-bye  last  time,  I  meant  it.  But  I  got  in 
with  the  boys  and  it  was  the  old  story.  You 
know  ;  I  needn't  tell  you.  I  don't  blame  the 
boys  ;  they  think  it  a  lark,  that's  all.  First 
one  comes  and  then  the  other,  and  each  one 
doesn't  know  how  far  I've  gone  already.  I 
have  myself  to  blame  ;  no  one  else.  I  have 
been  lying  here  over  a  fortnight  with  the 
D.T.'s — came  out  of  them  two  days  ago. 


178 


A    HORRIBLE   REVELATION         177 

Doctor  says  I  shall  be  able  to  go  abroad  to- 
morrow. He's  a  good  sort ;  says  the  Mediter- 
ranean cruise  will  be  the  thing  to  set  me  on 
my  legs.  You  said  so  ;  he  says  so.  He  has 
been  kind  enough  to  see  to  things,  booked  my 
berth,  and  I  am  going  to-morrow  from 
St.  Katharine's  dock  on  La  Mascotte. 

"  Dick  !  " 

"  I  am  speaking  honest,  old  girl ;  I  am 
going.  I  might  have  gone  without  writing 
to  you  to  come  up  and  see  me,  and  you  would 
have  been  spared  this,  but  I  couldn't.  I  felt 
that  I  wanted  to  say  good-bye,  old  girl, 
because — because  you've  been  so  good  to  me — 
more  than  I  deserve.  Because,"  there  was  a 
quaver  in  the  speaker's  voice,  "  because  I 
believe  it  will  be  the  last  time." 

"  Dick  !  " 

The  listener,  a  fierce  pain  at  his  heart, 
heard  the  catch  in  her  voice,  the  gasping  way 
in  which  she  ejaculated  the  name.  The  man 
continued  : 

"It  is  possible  to  travel  too  far  on  the 
downward  road.  So  far  that  you  get  lost  for 
ever  and  ever  in  the  valley.  I  have  been 
down  a  great  big  distance.  There  is  a  presenti- 
ment in  possession  of  me  that,  somehow,  I 
shall  never  come  back  to  England.  That  I 
shall  never  come  back  to  worry  you  again  !  "• 
"Dick!  Dick!  Dick!" 

if 


178  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

The  listening  man  could  hear  the  heart- 
breaking sound  ;  the  woman's  sobs  as  she 
spoke.  Despite  Rigby,  despite  all,  his  heart 
went  out  to  her.  Involuntarily  he  stretched 
out  his  arms.  They  fell  to  his  side  again, 
empty.  There  was  the  door  between. 

"  Don't  cry.  After  all,  it  is  perhaps  for  the 
best.  See  what  a  failure  I  am.  If  I  drink 
myself  to  death  perhaps  it  would  be  best. 
Pity  it  takes  so  long,  that's  all.  See  how  like 
a  blackguard  I  have  behaved  to  you." 

The  listener  could  not  see,  but  he  knew  her 
actions  to  be  expostulating. 

"  Ah,  it's  so  ;  it's  so  ...  I  know  ;  I'm 
sober  now.  When  I  come  out  of  it  I  lie 
thinking,  thinking,  thinking.  Realize  then 
what  a  foul  beast  I  have  made  of  myself. 
When  I  think  how  I  have  behaved  to  you — to 
you,  my  staunch,  devoted,  dear  old  pal,  the 
one  soul  who  has  stuck  to  me  through  thick 
and  thin,  I  hate  myself,  I  hate  myself  ;  and  I 
wonder  you  don't  hate  me  too." 

"  You  know  I  love  you,  Dick.  You  know 
,  that  no  soul  in  the  whole  world  loves  you  as 
*Ido." 

"  Somehow  I'd  rather  see  you  fly  into  a 
rage  and  call  me  all  the  evil  names  you  could 
invent  than  look  at  me  so  lovingly  and  sadly ; 
I  would  indeed.  I  should  feel  more  that  I 
had  deserved  to  lose  you  ;  it  would  hurt  less. 


A    HORRIBLE   REVELATION         179 

But  I  know  you  love  me  ;  that  is  one  reason 
why  I  have  determined  on  trying  this  Mediter- 
ranean trip.  Do  you  know,  before  I  sat 
down  to  write  to  you  yesterday,  I  made  a 
balance  of  my  hands.  Held  the  pen  in  one 
and  a  razor  in  the  other " 

'  Dick  !  Dick  !  Oh,  for  God's  sake  don't 
talk  so  !  " 

"  You  would  never  have  known,  Mab.  I 
am  staying  here  in  the  name  of  Rigby.  You 
don't  read  the  police  intelligence  in  the  papers. 
If  you  had,  you  would  never  have  linked  an 
account  of  a  drunkard's  suicide  in  a  Lambeth 
hotel  with  me.  You  would  have  thought 
me  on  blue  water,  keeping  my  promise  to 
you." 

The  man  at  the  door  could  hear  the  sounds 
of  her  grief  still.  It  was  agony  to  him  ;  he 
ground  his  teeth.  That  she  should  suffer  so, 
and  he  so  close,  so  helpless  to  help  her  ! 

"  The  pen  won  the  day,  Queenie."  The 
speaker  was  trying  to  infuse  a  note  of  cheeri- 
ness.  "  Don't  cry,  old  girl ;  there  is  nothing 
to  cry  about  after  all.  I'm  here  right  enough. 
I  wrote  you  to  come  up  ;  to  say  good-bye  to 
the  man  who  has  wronged  you  so.  If  I  live 
through  the  trip  I  shall  come  back  a  better, 
sounder,  healthier  man.  With  the  courage 
to  fight  this  drink  devil  for  life  or  death,  for 
all  I  am  worth." 


i8o  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  And,  please  God,  conquer  him,  Dick !  " 

"  And  what  about  yourself,  little  woman  ? 
Have  you  been  ill  ?  You  look  worn  out, 
worn  and  thinner.  You  haven't  been  worry- 
ing about  me  ?  " 

"  No,  Dick  ;  about  Grace.  She  has  been 
ill ;  dying  once,  I  thought,  but  thank  God 
she  is  as  well  to-day  as  ever  she  was." 

"  Our  little  Grade  has  been  as  ill  as  all 
that  ?  Poor  little  soul !  And  I've  been 
drinking  from  morning  till  night,  selfish  brute 
that  I  am,  without  any  thought  for  you  or  her. 
Good  God !  Why  was  I  born — answer  me 
that  ?  " 

The  listening  man  had  started  back,  horri- 
fied at  the  speaker's  use  of  the  word,  Our. 
So  stupefied  was  he  that  he  hardly  heard  the 
latter  part  of  the  man's  speech.  So,  then, 
this  drink-sodden  being,  posturing  under  the 
name  of  Rigby,  was  the  father  of  Grade  !  Of 
the  little  girl  he  had  helped  to  nurse  back  to 
life. 

He  shook  off  the  numbness  which  had 
gripped  him  ;  there  was  more  to  hear.  The 
thread  was  taken  up  again  ;  the  mother  was 
speaking  : 

" for  us  to  love  each  other  dearly,  Dick, 

all  through  our  lives.  Let  that  be  reason 
enough.  Banish  those  presentiments  of  yours, 
dearest.  Go  bravely  on  this  voyage.  It 


A    HORRIBLE   REVELATION         181 

must  benefit  you,  give  you  strength — moral 
strength." 

"  I  am  a  pretty  nice  sort  of  beauty  to  be 
thinking  of  moral  strength " 

"Don't  turn  away  from  me  like  that;  I 
can't  bear  it !  Pray  for  strength,  Dick  ; 
pray  for  it !  Oh,  come  back  to  me,  Dick 
dear,  your  old,  old  self.  My  heart  aches  for 
you  all  the  while  you  are  away  from 
me.  Come  back  to  me,  Dick,  come  back 
to  my  loving  arms,  stronger  and  better — 
yourself." 

"  I'm  going  to,  old  girl — going  to  try  hard 
this  time.  I  can  be  stronger  when  I  am  away 
from  the  boys.  On  board  La  Mascotte  there 
won't  be  a  soul  I  shall  know.  It  will  be 
torture  for  me  to  travel  in  solitude,  for  I  don't 
expect  such  a  wreck  as  I  am  will  make  friends. 
I  carry  my  story  written  on  my  face ;  every 
man  can  read  it  first  glance.  At  the  same 
time,  there  will  be  safety  in  it.  From  the 
time  I  set  foot  on  deck  till  the  time  I  come 
back — if  ever  I  come  back " 

"  Dick  !  " 

"  I'll  only  take  claret ;    will  not  touch  a  * 
drop  of  spirits  ;  so  help  me  God  !  " 

The  listener  thought  he  heard  a  sigh,  a 
despondent  sigh,  as  the  man  uttered  this 
resolution  ;  probably  it  had  been  so  resolved 
before.  But  it  might  have  been  fancy  ;  the 


182  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

dividing  door  was  too  thick  for  him  to  hear 
with  certainty. 

"  God  will  help  you,  Dick.  He  must.  I 
believe  you,  Dick,  I  believe  you.  You  mean 
well,  and  you  will  succeed.  You  will  come 
back,  and  we  shall  be  happy.  My  dear,  dear 
old  Dick  ;  happy  again,  I  know  it." 

"  We  will  hope  so,  Queenie." 

"  Another  man,  Dick  !  A  strong,  healthy 
and  well  man.  And  what  I  am  praying  to 
see,  Dick  —  for  I  think  the  tie  will  help 
you  to  keep  straight  —  well  and  able  to 
marry." 

There  ensued  a  moment's  silence.  The 
listener's  imagination  supplied  the  gap.  What 
he  had  seen  at  the  back  of  the  bungalow  at 
Wivernsea  helped  him  thereto.  He  heard  the 
passionate  sobbing  ;  the  impact  of  their  lips. 
Then  he  heard  no  more. 

A  great  blurring  veil  seemed  to  come  over 
sight,  hearing,  even  faculty ;  to  enshroud 
him.  He  staggered  away  as  if  physically 
injured.  What  he  had  heard  hurt  so. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  door  were  Gracie's 
mother,  Gracie's  father.  And  they  were 
talking  of  his  coming  back  from  a  voyage  well 
enough  to  marry. 

His  thoughts  went  away.  Were  of  that 
sweet,  innocent  little  child  down  at  Wivernsea. 
As  she  came  before  him  he  almost  groaned ; 


A    HORRIBLE   REVELATION         183 

it  was  too  terrible,  too  horrible.  Poor  little 
Grade  ! 

Trembling  ringers  unlocked  the  door ;  he 
got  downstairs  somehow  ;  down  to  the  level 
of  the  bar.  Called  for  brandy  there,  and, 
regardless  of  its  quality,  swallowed  it. 

It  was  a  mechanical  act.  Instinct  told  him 
that  he  needed  brandy,  and  he  wanted  to  be 
doing  something  ;  inaction  at  that  moment 
was  maddening. 

He  walked  outside. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  ONLY  WAY 

THE  cabman  was  of  a  speculative  nature. 
Had  hung  on  the  chance  of  Masters' 
needing  to  return.  Half-sovereign  fares 
are  not  picked  up  every  hour  in  the  day ; 
the  man  who  dispensed  them  was  worth 
waiting  for. 

"  Where  to,  sir  ?  " 

The  query  called  down  through  the  trap 
in  the  cab  roof.  The  reply  was : 

"Back  again." 

Directions  so  given,  because,  for  the  mo- 
ment, the  fare  could  think  of  nowhere  else.  .  . 
The  cool  air  blowing  on  his  face  gradually 
brought  him  back  to  his  usual  clear  perception 
of  things  ;  he  remembered. 

The  woman  he  loved  so,  was  lost  and  dead 
to  him ;  he  quite  realized  that.  Knew  too 
that  he  loved  her  still ;  would  do  anything 
to  ensure  or  bring  about  her  happiness. 


THE   ONLY   WAY  185 

Pity — heart-felt,  whole-souled  pity — was 
mingled  with  his  feeling  for  her  now. 

Pondering  over  his  position,  he  came  to 
think  of  her  as  more  sinned  against  than 
sinning.  Almost  joined  in  the  prayer  that 
the  man  she  loved — whose  existence  was  a 
bar  to  his  own  success — might  return  well 
enough  to  marry. 

For  Gracie's  sake  too — sweet,  winsome 
little  Gracie !  If  the  man  returned  well 
enough  to  marry  it  would  silence  tongues. 
Surely  it  was  a  good  prayer. 

Then  Gracie  would  grow  up  knowing 
nothing  of  her  childhood.  No  bar  sinister 
would,  anyway,  be  apparent  on  her  escut- 
cheon. She  could  travel  her  road  in  life 
without  a  dark  shadow  o'erhanging  it. 

If  he  returned  well  enough  to  marry ! 
Why  shouldn't  he  ?  Or  was  he,  in  the  soli- 
tude which  he  feared,  likely  to  become 
despondent  again  ?  Was  he  not  more  liable 
to  be  so,  in  abstinence  from  those  accustomed 
stimulants  ?  Despondent  even  to  the  clutch- 
ing of  a  razor  again  ? 

What  manner  of  man  was  he  that  had 
stolen  the  heart  of  Gracie's  mother  ?  What 
manner  of  man  was  he  who  could  have 
led  astray  so  pure,  so  loving  a  soul  ? 

Surely  Rigby  had  spoken  rightly  ;  it  were 
best  for  such  a  man  no  longer  to  cumber 


186  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

the  earth.  And  yet — that  was  not  the  only 
consideration.  There  was  another.  Two  : 
Grade  and  her  mother. 

The  man  had  said  that  he  feared  solitude. 
Had  spoken  of  his  personal  appearance  with 
loathing.  Had  feared  that  no  soul  would 
wish  to  speak  to  him  ;  that  Drink  was  written 
on  his  face.  Even  allowing  for  exaggeration, 
there  must  be  a  basis  of  truth. 

Was  it  wise  to  let  him  spend  that  voyage 
alone  ?  Was  it  not  possible  to  send  with  him 
a  companion  ?  One  who  would  interest  him ; 
divert  his  thoughts  ;  take  him  out  of  himself  ? 

A  companion  to  do  this  for  her  sake — 
for  her  child's  sake.  Why  not  himself  ? 
What  was  there  in  it  after  all  ?  Not  even 
self-sacrifice.  Masters  felt  that  a  voyage 
would  do  him  good.  That  to  stop  in  England 
just  then,  where  he  was,  would  stifle  him. 
Let  him  go  on  to  the  broad  ocean  where  he 
would  be  able  to  breathe. 

His  work  he  could  take  with  him.  Write 
as  well,  better,  on  the  ship  than  in  his  own 
rooms.  Why  not  ?  There  was  a  soul  to 
help  to  save  !  There  was  a  woman  to  be 
made  happy  !  A  child  to  be  taken  out  of  the 
range  of  the  pointed  finger  of  shame  !  Why 
not? 

If  it  were  true,  as  the  mother  said,  that 
he  had  saved  the  child's  life,  was  it  to  be 


THE   ONLY   WAY  187 

saved  only  that  she  should  suffer  ^misery 
thereafter  ?  Undeserved  misery  in  all  the 
future  years  ?  Should  he  not  prevent  that 
if  he  could  ? 

Himself  !  Who  better  fitted  ?  His  heart 
and  soul  would  be  in  the  act.  He  would  be 
working  for  those  he  loved  !  '  What  a  triumph 
if  he  could  restore  this  man  to  her  Well 
Enough  To  Marry.  Why  not  ? 

Resolution  :  he  would  go.  Yes,  he  would 
go  on  to  the  boat  :  it  was  the  only  way.  The 
cab  passed  a  bill-poster's  hoarding.  A  drama 
being  played  in  London  just  then  was  :  The 
Only  Way.  The  mind  of  the  man  in  the  cab 
had  run  in  keeping  with  the  theatre  announce- 
ment. He  thought  of  Sidney  Carton. 

He  would  go  !  The  hero  of  that  Tale  of 
Two  Cities  was  not  the  only  man  who  had 
made  sacrifices  for  the  woman  he  loved ; 
although  his  own  sacrifice  was  hardly  worth 
such  a  name.  In  his  heart  he  wished  it 
greater. 

The  thought  trembled  through  his  mind, 
result  of  the  years  of  journalistic  labour, 
that  his  cruise  would  serve  in  affording 
a  supply  of  copy.  He  hated  himself  for  the 
thought ;  it  seemed  to  sully  the  purity  of  his 
motive,  his  love.  He  wanted  to  give  to 
the  woman  he  loved  whole-souled  service. 
Yet  was  weak  enough  to  want  an  excuse. 


i88  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Sidney  Carton,  when  his  good  work  was 
accomplished,  died  on  the  scaffold.  When 
Masters  had  accomplished  his  good  work — 
well,  there  would  be  time  enough  to  think  of 
that  later. 

Life  was  worth  living  just  then  :  for  her 
sake.  It  would  have  little  value  to  him  after  ; 
after  its  work  was  over.  Then  he  would 
be  content,  wishful  to  rest. 

The  cab  had  reached  Parliament  Street. 
The  fare's  hand  went  through  the  roof  trap ; 
the  driver  reined  up. 

"  There  is  a  passenger — ship's  passenger — 
agent's,  somewhere  round  here/'  he  called  up 
to  the  bending-down  driver, "  Cockspur  Street, 
I  think  ;  do  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  So  many  about,  sir.  Might  you  happen 
to  know  the  name,  sir  ?  " 

"  M'no.  Yes !  I  have  just  remembered 
it :  Sewell  and  Crowther." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  know  the  place,  sir.  Do  you 
want  to  drive  there  ?  " 

"  Please." 

"  Right,  sir." 

A  few  minutes  later  the  cab  stopped  and 
he  was  alighting  at  the  passenger  agents' 
door.  Entering,  he  said  to  the  counter 
clerk  : 

"  You  are  booking  for  La  Mascotte,  leaving 
for  the  Mediterranean,  aren't  you  ?  " 


THE   ONLY   WAY  189 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  we're  the  agents." 

"  Have  you  any  berths  left  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,  a  number.  It's  an  off  time  of 
the  year,  and  we  do  not  fill  up  from  London. 
We  are  stopping  at  coast  stations.  We  shall 
fill  up  from  those." 

"  Let  me  see  a  plan  of  the  ship." 

"Yes,  sir.  .  .  That's  it.  Which  class— 
which  part  of  the  boat  do  you  want, 
sir?" 

Masters  ignored  the  question.  Pointing 
to  the  pen  and  ink  list  of  names,  inquired  : 

"  These  are  the  names  of  those  who  have 
already  booked  their  passages  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

Having  located  what  he  wanted  he  turned 
to  the  plan  of  the  ship  again,  saying : 

'  This  is  a  two-berthed  cabin.  One  berth 
is  taken,  I  see.  Is  the  other  vacant  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  But  you  can  book  one  in  an 
empty  cabin  if  you  like.  You  will  have  more 
room,  unless  we  fill  up." 

'  Thank  you.  I  prefer  this  one.  I  think 
I  happen  to  know  the  Mr.  Rigby  who  has  the 
other  half." 

"  Oh,  I  see,  sir — friend  of  yours — of  course, 
companionship.  I  beg  your  pardon." 

Masters  paid  his  passage  money  ;  booked  in 
the  name  of  Charleigh ;  inquired  the  time 
of  sailing  on  the  morrow 


190  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

1  Tide   serves   at   noon,    sir.    The   vessel 
will  go  out  on  top  of  the  water." 

"  From  St.  Katharine's  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  .  .  Good-day,  sir,  and  thank 
you.  .  .  Not  that  way,  sir.  .  .  This  door  on 
the  left. 

"  Good-day." 

The  cabman  was  waiting.  Stooped  down 
from  his  perch  to  receive  instructions. 

"  The  Telegraph  Office,  Charing  Cross." 

There  the  fare  despatched  a  wire  to  his 
Wivernsea  landlady ;  telling  her  to  pack 
everything  of  his  in  his  portmanteaux,  and 
send  them  up  by  the  afternoon  train  to  the 
care  of  the  Cloak  Room,  Charing  Cross. 

Then  he  drove  to  his  publishers.  He 
would  be  away  some  time,  and  there 
were  certain  business  arrangements  to  be 
made.  .  .  Then  to  his  flat  in  Shaftesbury 
Avenue.  He  slept  there  the  night. 

More  correctly,  he  spent  the  night  there. 
Spent  it  in  pacing  to  and  fro,  recalling  all 
the  events  of  that  long  last  month.  All 
the  happiest  days ;  all  the  most  miserable 
ones. 

He  was  heart-full  of  pity  for  the  woman, 
poor  soul !  Wished  he  could  wipe  away  the 
bitterness  of  his  words  that  night  on  the 
seat  at  Wivernsea.  That  was  impossible. 
But  he  could  try  to  make  amends. 


THE   ONLY   WAY  191 

In  the  early  morning — dawn  just  lighten- 
ing the  sky — he  wrote  a  note  to  Gracie's 
mother  :  directed  it  to  Ivy  Cottage.  Just 
a  purely  formal  little  letter,  saying  he  was 
called  away  on  urgent  business  and  would 
not  return  to  Wivernsea  again. 

As  coming  from  an  author  it  was  a  dis- 
appointing note  ;  there  was  nothing  clever  in 
it.  Most  authors'  notes,  perhaps  because 
literary  fireworks  are  supposed  to  be  con- 
tained in  them,  are  disappointing. 

He  sent  his  fondest  love  to  his  little  sweet- 
heart Gracie,  and  expressed  a  sincere  hope 
for  her  mother's  future  happiness.  That 
letter  later  on  in  the  morning  he  dropped  into 
a  post  office. 

Gracie's  mother,  who  had  journeyed  home 
by  the  previous  evening's  train,  read  it,  dry- 
eyed. 

The  dryness  which  burns. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHITE  LIES 

MASTERS  gathered  in  his  luggage  from 
Charing  Cross  cloak  room  ;  reached  St; 
Katharine's  Docks  with  it ;  got  aboard  La 
Mascotte. 

He  was  first  in  the  cabin ;  was  arranging 
his  things  in  an  orderly  way  when  Mr.  Rigby 
came  aboard.  The  second  tenant  of  the 
cabin  looked  every  bit  of  the  wreck  he  had 
painted  himself. 

The  author,  quick  of  observation,  gauged 
him  to  be  a  man  of  twenty-five  or  there- 
abouts. Younger  possibly,  but  dissipation 
is  an  artist  who  graves  deep  lines ;  wrinkles 
are  ageing  things.  Still  of  fine  physique, 
but  dull-eyed,  heavy,  face  bluish  and  swollen. 

Masters,  sweeping  a  comprehensive  glance 
round,  brushed  up  the  new  comer  with  it ; 
said  generally: 

"  I  am  first  to  take  possession.  It  seems 
we  are  to  be  close  companions  on  this  voyage  ; 
too  close,  in  one  sense." 


191 


WHITE   LIES  193 

He  referred  to  the  size  of  the  cabin ; 
then  stretching  out  his  hand,  continued : 

"  Let  me  introduce  myself.  William 
Charleigh,  journalist.  I  sincerely  hope  we 
shall  be  very  good  friends  whilst  we  are 
together." 

The  gloom  on  Dick's  face  lighted ;  his 
colourless  horizon  seemed  brightened ;  it 
was  as  if  the  sun  had  suddenly  popped  out. 
This  cheerful,  strong-looking  man  making 
overtures  of  friendship,  dissipated  all  his 
fearsomeness  of  solitude  on  the  voyage. 
Eagerly  gripping  the  hand  held  out,  he  shook 
it  long  and  earnestly  ;  saying  : 

"  I  reciprocate  that !  Thanks !  My 
name's  Rigby.  Nothing  by  profession  and 
very  little  better  by  nature.  I  have  just 
come  out  of — out  of  an  illness.  I  am  taking 
the  trip  in  the  hope  of — of  getting  well. 

"  No  trip  like  it !  '"  Masters'  response  was 
cheerily  uttered.  "  Take  my  word  for  that. 
I  took  the  voyage  some  years  ago,  and  it 
pulled  me  off  the  grave's  brink." 

"  Really !  You  look  so  strong  and  well 
I  should  not  have  thought  you'd  had  an 
illness  in  all  the  days  of  your  life." 

Lies,  white  lies,  came  to  Masters'  lips  with 
the  readiness  of  fiction  flowing  from  his 
pen  ;  he  said  : 

"  I  went  to  the  dogs  and  the  dogs  nearly  did 

N 


194  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

for  me.  That's  an  unpleasant  way  they 
have  when  you  get  inside  the  kennel.  It's 
a  mere  shave  I'm  here  talking  to  you.  I 
pulled  up  just  in  time.'* 

"  No  !  " 

There  were  both  astonishment  and  eager- 
ness in  Dick's  question ;  both  of  the  most 
intense  kind.  Masters'  lying  was  very  success- 
ful. He  was  acting  so  with  a  view  to  drawing 
his  companion  out. 

If  a  confession  could  be  got  from  the 
sick  man  it  would  help.  Dick  would  rely  for 
strength  and  help  on  the  man  he  had  con- 
fessed to.  That  was  only  human  nature. 

If  you  tell  a  man  your  troubles  he  is  more 
than  likely  to  want  to  tell  you  his  own.  A 
keen  observer  was  Masters  ;  knew  that 
confidence  begets  confidence.  So  himself 
became  very  confidential. 

"  It  is  a  fact,"  he  continued.  "  Like  a 
great  number  of  others,  I  liked  society, 
and  cards,  and  wine,  and — well,  I  am  quite 
cured  now,  so  I  don't  mind  confessing  it.  I 
sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  Bacchus  too  often, 
and  Bacchus  resented  it.  The  drink  god 
is  an  ungrateful  sort  of  deity,  isn't  he  ?  He 
sent  me  visions  of  snakes  and  other  creepy- 
crawlies.  When  I  came  out  of  the  land  of 
visions  I  was  the  most  washed-out  wreck 
you  ever  saw.  The  doctor  gave  me  up." 


WHITE   LIES  195 

"  No  ?  " 

Dick  ejaculated  the  word  almost  breath- 
lessly. His  own  doctor  had  not  gone  so  far 
as  that.  There  was  more  than  a  chance  of 
hope,  after  all !  He  listened. 

"  Fact.  When  I  heard  that,  I  was  on  the 
verge  of  suicide.  Then  they  put  me  on  a 
boat  doing  the  Mediterranean  trip  ;  just  as 
this  one  is.  This  brings  back  old  times,  and — 
well,  here  I  am,  you  see ;  I  am  all  right 
now." 

"  And  the  doctor,  you  say — but  how  did 
you — did  you  conquer  your  craving  ?  " 

"  Sheer  force  of  will.  I  took  an  oath 
that  whilst  I  was  on  the  ship  I  wouldn't 
touch  a  drop." 

"  I  have  done  that,  too  !  " 

"  You  ?  " 

Masters  started  round  in  astonishment : 
really  a  clever  piece  of  acting. 

"  Yes.  .  .  Well,  the  cat's  out  of  the  bag 
now.  Thank  God  I  haven't  got  a  temperance 
crank  for  a  companion  on  the  voyage.  I 
have  done  what  you  have  done,  and  I  am 
setting  out  to  do  now  what  you  did  :  coming 
away  to  get  shut  of  it  all.  To  try  and  break 
myself  free  from  the  curse." 

"  You'll  do  it !  " 

The  flushed  face  flushed  still  deeper  ; 
deepened  to  purple,  at  the  assurance.  But 


196  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

the  dulled  eyes  had  quite  an  eager  light  in 
them,  as  the  speaker  pressed  his  question  : 

"  You  think  I  will  ?  You  really  think  I 
will  ?  That  I  have  strength  enough  ?  " 

"  Of  course  !  It's  the  despondent  times 
you  have  to  fear ;  just  don't  fear  them. 
Just  hang  on  to  me  when  you  feel  them 
coming.  Don't  get  by  yourself ;  it's  like 
taking  one's  pill  uncoated ;  cling  to  me 
like  a  barnacle.  I'll  help  you  to  kill  your  blue 
devils  !  " 

"  You  will  ?  By  God  !  "  He  spoke  almost 
breathlessly  ;  the  proffered  help  was  so  sweet : 
hit  him  in  the  face.  "  You're  a  brick ! 
And  a  stranger,  too  ;  never  set  eyes  on  me 
before  !  " 

"  Never.  Quite  right ;  never  set  eyes  on 
you  before  !  But  remember,  we've  been  burnt 
in  the  same  fire.  A  fellow-feeling  makes  us — 
you  know  the  rest." 

"  By  Jove  !  You  are  wondrous  kind.  Do 
you  know,  I  funked  this  voyage ;  funked  it 
believing  there  was  death  aboard — overboard 
— for  me.  Imagined  every  soul  would  read 
the  story  in  my  face  and  shun  me.  People 
are  so  apt  to  judge  the  quality  of  a  pasture 
by  the  length  of  the  grass." 

"  Rot !  " 

Masters  was  shuddering  inwardly  as  he 
looked  at  his  companion.  This  bloated  youth, 


WHITE   LIES  197 

who  looked  five-and-twenty,  yet  spoke  with 
the  boyishness  of  eighteen.  He  dived  into 
his  secret  apprehension  ;  shuddered  to  think 
that  the  woman  he  loved  should  be  linked  to 
such  a  drink-sodden  wretch.  Thought  of  her 
induced  him  to  lower  the  sail  of  his  dignity. 

There  was  the  hope,  the  chance,  of  reforma- 
tion. When  Rigby  set  foot  on  the  vessel 
it  had  been  with  despair  at  his  heart ;  he 
had  attended  the  funeral  of  hope  long  ago. 
Things  were  different  now.  As  for  Masters, 
he  realized  that  the  man  was  young  ;  might 
perhaps  still  meet  with  salvation. 

But  it  was  a  thin  reed  on  which  to  rely  : 
his  youth ;  a  two-edged  fact  :  might  cut 
either  way.  Masters  was  quite  aware  of  that 
as  he  uttered  the  reassuring  monosyllable. 
Spoke  in  a  forced  tone  of  conviction ;  there 
is  a  limit  to  suffering  ;  none  to  fear. 

The  odds,  too,  are  against  a  drunkard's 
reformation  ;  all  Lombard  Street  to  a  China 
orange.  Anyway,  it  was  a  fact  he  was  going 
to  do  his  level  best  to  turn  things  to  good 
account.  The  youngster  must  be  spurred 
on  ;  not  to  advance  is  to  retreat.  Not  only 
is  courage  needed  in  facing  a  difficulty, 
but  the  ability  to  grapple  with  it ;  if  looked 
in  the  face  too  long,  it  is  apt  to  stare  us  out  of 
countenance. 

"  I  believe  you."     Rigby  spoke  with  grate- 


198  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

ful  fervour.     "  Anyway,  I  am  not  going  to 
face  the  future  gloomily  now ! " 

"  That's  half  the  battle.    After  all,  life's 
only  a  journey ;  it's  more  or  less  our  own 
fault  if  we  don't  make  a  pleasure  excursion  of 
:  it." 
•      "  I  believe  that." 

"  I  know  it.  Remember,  I  have  been  in  the 
battle,  and  came  out  upper  dog.  So  long 
as  you  win  the  race,  what  does  it  matter 
whether  you  had  a  good  start  or  not  ?  " 

"  Anyway,  I  shall  keep  you  to  your  word. 
If  I  feel  that  awful  thirst  coming  on  me  ; 
feel,  as  I  have  felt,  that  Hell's  got  its  doors 
gaping  wide  open  for  me,  I  shall  worry  you." 
'  You  won't ;  not  worry  me.  Come  that 
moment  you  hear  the  hinges  start  creaking, 
and  we'll  try,  try  together,  to  keep  the  doors 
shut." 

"  That  you  should  take  all  this  trouble " 

'  Trouble  be  hanged !     Don't  you  know 
how  easy  it  is  to  poke  another  man's  fire  ?  " 

Masters'  eyes  looked  honestly  into  Dick's ; 
he  was  very  honest  of  purpose.  Wanted, 
with  all  his  soul,  to  keep  those  doors  closed. 
For  the  sake  of  the  woman  whose  trust  had 
been  betrayed ;  for  the  sake  of  the  little 
one.  He  knew  how  facile  is  the  descent 
into  Hell.  Knew,  too,  that  a  man  ambitious 
to  make  a  fool  of  himself  never  lacks  help. 


WHITE   LIES  199 

How  shines  a  good  deed  in  this  bad  world! 
The  goodness  of  his  own  was  illuminating 
Masters'  eyes  at  that  moment.  And  he  had 
no  fear  of  the  proverb  :  that  if  he  conferred  a 
favour  he  might  expect  ingratitude.  Plainly, 
Rigby  was  not  built  on  those  lines. 

Dick  was  not  much  of  a  psychologist  or 
mind  reader.  Saw  only  the  honest  eyes 
bright  with  enthusiasm ;  found  them  in- 
spiriting ;  knew  nothing  of  the  inner  thought 
prompting  this  extraordinary  kindness. 

His  was  not  an  inquiring  nature  ;  in  his 
happy-go-lucky  way  he  accepted  Fate  un- 
questionably. Help  had  come  in  his  way, 
and  he  snapped  at  it  as  suddenly  as  if  it 
were  a  dish  of  snapdragon.  In  response  to 
Masters'  words,  he  mentally  thanked  his 
stars,  physically  held  out  his  hand.  In 
silence,  gratefully  gripped  his  companion ; 
was  too  thankful  to  speak. 

Masters  resumed  his  assumption  of  cheerful- 
ness. Knew  the  difficulty  he  had  to  face  be- 
fore he  spoke  :  putting  seed  into  the  ground 
does  not  make  a  harvest  certain  ;  said : 

"  Now,  there  is  another  thing  to  discuss  : 
about  the  grub." 

"  My  dear  old  chap  !  "  Earnestness,  con- 
viction in  his  tone.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  shouldn't 
touch  food  again  for  months." 

"  I  know.    That's  not  an  unusual  symp- 


200  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

torn."  Masters  affected  to  laugh.  "I  felt 
like  that.  And  if  you  go  to  the  saloon  table 
you'll  feel  like  it  for  quite  a  while.  Look 
here  now  !  "  He  spoke  suddenly,  as  if  in- 
spired with  an  idea.  "  Will  you  leave  your 
commissariat  to  me  ?  " 

"  To  you  !  But  why  on  earth,  now,  should 
you  be  troubled  to— 

Masters  let  a  shade  of  annoyance  creep 
over  his  face.  There  was  no  misreading  it. 
Assuming,  too,  a  tone  of  regret ;  he  said  : 

"  You  mean  that  ?  That  you  would  rather 
I  did  not  interfere  ?  " 

The  facial  expression  and  voice  had  the 
desired  effect.  Cheated  the  younger  man — 
surely  he  must  be  very  young ! — into  expos- 
tulating : 

"  My  dear  old  chap  !  For  Heaven's  sake 
don't  think  I  mean  anything  of  that  sort !  I'll 
do  whatever  you  say." 

So  he  would ;  that  was  plainly  evident. 
The  strong  will  had  conquered  the  weaker. 
Masters  felt  overjoyed  at  his  success.  Most 
hearts  have  secret  drawers  in  them  contain- 
ing some  good  traits  :  if  we  can  only  find  the 
spring. 

Moreover,  strange  as  it  seemed,  Masters  was 
conscious  of  the  birth  of  a  liking  for  his  young 
companion.  He  was  surprised,  too,  to  realize 
that  he  was  but  a  boy.  Had  thought  him 


WHITE   LIES  201 

five-and-twenty  at  first ;  now  imagined  him 
to  be  not  much  over  one-and-twenty  years  of 
age — if  that. 

It  was,  in  a  measure,  a  welcome  surprise. 
His  imagination  had  portrayed  Rigby  as  a 
hardened  debauchee  ;  sunken  in  vice  as  sodden 
in  drink.  Mingled  with  the  surprise,  too,  was 
a  feeling  of  wonder  that  Gracie's  mother 

should,  with  one  younger  than  herself 

But  there,  he  told  himself,  there  was  no 
accounting  for  these  things ;  there  was  no  logic 
or  reason  in  them. 

"  Very  well,  then  "  —Masters  speaking,  his 
face  cleared  of  its  cloud — "  I'll  arrange 
with  the  steward  and  the  cook.  Fresh  milk, 
while  it  lasts,  and  beef  tea  right  away  till 
you  feel  you  can  compass  solidity  little  and 
often  ;  that  is  my  prescription." 

"  You  are  a  good  old  chap  !  " 

Almost  tears  in  his  eyes  as  he  spoke.  He 
had  not  counted  on  making  friends  at  all, 
and  here,  the  moment  he  set  foot  on  the 
boat,  was  one  to  hand.  And  such  a  one  !  A 
perfect  prince  of  good  fellows. 

"  For  some  days,"  Dick  continued,  "  I 
shall  keep  almost  to  this  cabin.  Lying  down 
will  rest  me.  Moreover,  I  am  not  anxious  to 
show  up  to  the  crowd." 

Again  that  purple  flush.  Masters,  consider- 
ately, was  not  looking.  Was  engaged  hanging 


202  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

up  his  belongings  and  stowing  them  away 
in  the  limited  space  at  his  disposal.  It 
was  work  which  afforded  occasion  for  a 
considerable  display  of  invention  and  in- 
genuity. 

The  cabin  of  a  three  thousand  ton  vessel, 
or  of  an  Atlantic  liner  for  that  matter,  offers 
little  luxury  in  the  way  of  wardrobe  accom- 
modation. Masters,  though  his  personal 
luggage  did  not  rival  in  extent  that  of  Beau 
Brummel,  yet  found  himself  in  difficulties.  He 
turned  to  his  companion  ;  said  : 

"  I  shall  be  inside  a  lot  too.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  I'm  finishing  a  book  ;  have  a  lot  of 
writing  to  do.  So  you  won't  be  altogether 
alone." 

"  That's  jolly  !  " 

"  Lend  a  hand  here,  old  fellow,  will 
you  ?  See  if  we  can  shove  this  portmanteau 
under." 

Dick  was  only  too  glad  to  be  of  service ; 
wilh'ngly  rendered  aid  in  the  stowing  away  of 
things.  Later  followed  suit  with  his  own 
stuff.  Masters  was  intent  on  keeping  his 
companion  occupied  even  with  the  smallest 
matters. 

That  was  the  beginning  of  things.  The 
author  felt  that  he  had  got  the  bit  in  his 
companion's  mouth ;  that  it  rested  with  him 
which  road  was  taken  ;  depended  on  his  skill 


WHITE   LIES  203 

as  a  rider.    Still  there  was  every  care  and 
caution  to  be  exercised. 

When  you  ride  a  young  colt  it  is  well 
to  see  that  your  saddle  is  well  girt. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

LOVE'S  LABOUR  LOST 

PROSPERITY  attended  the  voyage;  if 
that  term  may  be  applied  to  recovery  of 
health.  The  sea-air — genial  companionship  had 
something  to  do  with  it — was  pulling  Dick 
round.  He  said  he  was  a  new  man  ;  received 
assurance  of  that  fact  from  inspection  of  his 
reflection  in  the  mirror. 

Although  his  story  was  no  longer  visible 
on  his  face,  it  was  in  his  heart ;  hidden  away 
perhaps,  but  there  still.  He  had  left  the 
stepping-stones  of  milk  and  beef-tea  a  long 
way  behind ;  was  walking  through  square 
meals  as  vigorously  as  any  man  aboard. 

The  friendship  opened  up  in  the  little  two- 
berth  cabin  had  developed  into  the  closest 
kind.  On  one  side  it  had  started  garbed 
in  the  mantle  of  pretence.  That  was  soon 
shed ;  sincerity  taking  its  place. 

Dick's  fidelity  was  dog-like ;  he  followed  his 
companion  about  as  if  loath  to  lose  sight 


304 


LOVE'S   LABOUR   LOST  205 

of  him.  Masters  had  discovered  in  him 
artistic  tendencies  ;  the  ability  to  draw  well. 
It  was  long  before  Dick's  hand  ceased  to 
remind  one  of  a  jelly  ;  when  it  did,  Masters 
asked,  would  Dick  oblige  him  by  doing 
something  ? 

Oblige  him  ?  Dick  repeated  the  question. 
Great  Scott !  Was  there  anything  he  could 
ask  which  he,  Dick,  wouldn't  jolly  well  jump 
at  the  chance  of  doing.  What  did  Charleigh 
take  him  for  ? 

The  story  Masters  was  engaged  on  was  to 
be  illustrated  ;  sketches  were  needed  of  the 
proposed  drawings.  So  the  author  said, 
speaking  quite  casually. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  anxious  to 
find  occupation  for  idle  hands.  Feared  the 
provision,  if  he  did  not  himself  provide  it, 
of  less  profitable  work.  Remembered  a 
proverb  to  that  effect  :  Satan  filling  a  stellar 
part  in  it. 

"  Let  me  make  them  for  you,  will  you  ?  " 
Dick  spoke  eagerly.  "  I  can  draw  properly, 
really;  I've  had  drawings  in  the  Strand  and 
Windsor,  and  they're  particular,  you  know. 
I  did  it  because  I  loved  the  work ;  I  had  to 
give  it  up,  because  my  hand " 

Masters  interrupted  him  ;  was  ever  anxious 
to  prevent  a  harking  back  to  the  old  days  of 
failure.  Wanted  his  protege  to  look  forward, 


206  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

not  backward  :  at  the  brightness  ahead,  not 
on  the  horror  which  he  hoped  was  for  ever 
left  behind. 

"  My  dear  Dick,  a  thousand  thanks  !  I 
shall  be  only  too  glad  if  you  will." 

That  was  the  commencement  of  an  even 
closer  intercourse  ;  the  drawings  drew  them 
together.  The  sketches  had  to  be  thought 
out  and  considered.  On  smooth  days  were 
worked  at  with  pencil  on  paper. 

Dick's  was  really  a  skilled  hand.  And  that 
hand  of  his — he  took  immense  pride  in  the 
fact — was  steady  now.  The  ability  is  not 
given  to  every  artist  to  do  line  work  on  a 
boat.  The  throbbing  from  the  engine  room 
usually  permeates  every  part  of  the  vessel. 

So  the  two  men  would  sit  on  deck,  one 
writing  and  the  other  drawing.  Sometimes 
the  author's  pen  would  suddenly  cease  work  ; 
cease  for  quite  a  while.  Dick  respected  those 
pauses ;  imagined  Charleigh  to  be  thinking 
out  the  details  of  his  work. 

He  was  wrong.  Masters  was  thinking  of 
Miss  Mivvins.  Remorseful  thoughts ;  re- 
morse that  he  had  ever  wounded  that  generous, 
sweet  soul ;  ever  added  by  his  harsh  words 
to  her  burden  of  sorrow.  Vainly  regretful 
thoughts  :  regret  that  he  had  not  met  her 
earlier  in  life.  A  sigh  usually  marked  Masters' 
emergence  from  dreamland.  If  he  did  not 


LOVE'S   LABOUR   LOST  207 

directly  pick  up  his  work  again,  his  companion 
would  open  up  conversation  ;  one  day  said  : 

"'I  call  you  Prince,  old  fellow,  because 
you  told  me  to.  Is  it  a  nickname  or  your 
real  name  ?  " 

Masters  smiled ;  the  sweet  innocence  of 
his  godmother  occurred  to  him  ;  he  said  : 

"  Which  do  you  think,  now  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  can't  help  thinking  that  Prince 
Charleigh  seems  too  happy  a  combination 
to  be  the  real  thing.  Real  godmothers 
and  godfathers  don't  hit  on  those  things 
usually." 

"  Mine  did  not.  Yet  all  the  same  I  was 
christened,  quite  recently,  Prince." 

"  Ah  !  "  Dick's  eyes  sparkled ;  he  fancied 
himself  a  discoverer.  "  I'll  bet  you  a 
new  hat  I  can  guess  the  sex  of  the  christener 
—a  girl  ?  " 

"  Splendid  marksman  !  A  bull's  eye  !  Hit 
the  centre  of  the  target  first  time  !  " 

A  merry  twinkle  found  place  in  the  younger 
man's  eyes  as  he  inquired : 

"  Engaged  to  her,  old  fellow  ?  " 

"  Well- 
Masters  paused.  Then,  with  a  quiet  smile 
and  a  long  puff  at  his  pipe,  completed  his 
sentence  : 

"  We  have  spoken  of  marriage." 

"  Soon  ? " 


208  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  M'no.     She's  very  young." 

The  quiet  smile  broadened  on  Masters' 
face  ;  he  remembered  how  very  young ! 

"  I  have  been  writing  this  morning  to  my 
girl/'  said  Dick.  "  We  shall  touch  port  to- 
day for  stores,  and  be  able  to  post  letters, 
the  Captain  says." 

"  So  I  gathered." 

"  Did  your  ears  burn  this  morning,  old 
chap  ?  My  letter  was  full  of  you." 

"  Was  it  ?  " 

Masters  started ;  was  troubled.  His  pipe 
was  being  smoked  more  vigorously  than 
ever  ;  he  continued  : 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that." 

"  WTiy  ?  I  told  my  girl  who  was  respon- 
sible for  my  salvation.  You.  .  .  Ah,  don't 
shake  your  head,  Prince.  My  living,  my 
being  here  on  this  deck  alive,  sane,  and,  thank 
God !  with  a  feeling  of  manhood  strong  in  me, 
is  due  to  you.  But  for  you,  I  should  have 
gone  overboard.  .  .  Yes,  I  know  it ;  I  want 
you  to  know  that  I  know  it.  I  can  never 
repay  you,  that's  out  of  the  region  of  possi- 
bility, but  you  might  like  to  feel  that  you 
took  a  fellow-creature  out  of  the  slough, 
even  if  the  fellow  isn't  worth  much.  You 
saved  my  life  and  you've  made  it  worth 
living — to  me,  at  any  rate." 

He  spoke  with  a  catch  in  his  voice ;  grati- 


LOVE'S   LABOUR   LOST  209 

tilde  moved  him.  So  earnest  was  his  speech 
of  thankfulness  that  it  moved  Masters  also  • 
Dick  went  on : 

"  I  came  aboard  with  the  knowledge  in  my 
heart  that  I  should  make  a  hole  in  the  water. 
I  got  my  girl  up  to  London,  the  only  friend 
that  has  stuck  to  me,  to  say  good-bye  to  her. 
And  I  meant  it,  Prince ;  meant  it  for  a  final 
good-bye,  a  good-bye  for  ever.  Thanks  to 
you,  old  chap,  that's  a  thing  of  the  past ;  the 
shadow  has  passed  away." 

"  I  hope,  Dick — nay,  more  than  hope — I 
am  confident,  never  to  return." 

"  I  pray  God  so,  Prince  !  I  do  !  I  do  !  I 
say  that  reverently.  I  pray  God  so.  I'm 
a  bit  fearful  of  when  this  trip  is  over  ;  just  a 
bit ;  that's  all  that's  wrong  with  me.  You've 
been  my  anchor  ;  I  don't  know  how  I  shall 
ride  on  a  tempting  sea  without  you.  You 
are  not  as  other  men — no,  let  me  say  it — 
I  have  clung  to  you,  Prince,  old  fellow,  like — 
well,  like  the  ivy  clings  to  the  oak.  I  can't 
help  thinking,  when  the  oak's  gone  what's  to 
become  of  the  ivy." 

"  You'll  go  back  home  well,  and  find 
other  ties." 

Then  he  gave  utterance  to  the  phrase 
which  had  been  persistently  ringing  in  his 
ears  so  long : 

"  You  will  go  back  well  enough  to  marry." 

o 


210  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Dick  started  ;  smiled.  The  memory  of  that 
last  interview  came  back  to  him  too ;  he 
answered : 

'  That's  what  my  girl  says,  Prince.  But  I 
don't  feel  at  all  like  marrying  :  I'm  not  that 
sort." 

"  Not— that— sort !  " 

It  seemed  to  Masters  as  if  all  the  blood 
in  his  body  suddenly  turning  scalding  hot 
and  black-coloured ;  filled  his  veins  to 
bursting  point.  He  sat  quite  still,  motion- 
less ;  fearful  that  if  he  moved,  loosened 
for  one  instant  his  hold  on  himself,  his  feelings 
would  be  too  much  for  him. 

His  trip,  his  care  for  Dick  then,  was  so 
much  labour  thrown  away.  .  .  He  must 
keep  that  feeling,  that  desire  to  rush  at  the 
boy's  throat  and  choke  his  worthless  life 
out,  keep  it  down.  Nothing  would  be  gained 
by  loss  of  temper.  It  is  the  cool  hammer 
which  fashions  the  red-hot  iron ;  he  knew 
that,  yet  did  not  dare  to  look  at  his  com- 
panion. 

His  stylographic  pen  was  not  of  the  best 
make ;  perhaps  resented  being  held  down 
so.  The  ink  ran  from  it  and  made  a  blot 
on  the  paper.  Although  conscious  of  its 
existence  he  allowed  the  size  of  the  blot 
to  increase ;  still  he  made  no  movement.  .  . 
At  last  he  spoke ;  spoke  so  huskily  that 


LOVE'S   LABOUR   LOST  211 

Dick  looked  up  from  his  sketch.    The  moment 
he  did  so,  he  cried : 

"  Prince  !  Good  God,  old  chap,  what's  the 
matter  ?  Prince  !  Prince  !  You  are  ill !  " 

"  I  am  quite  well.  Sit  down  ;  I  am  all  right 
I  tell  you.  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

"  Rot !  " 

The  boy  scrambled  to  his  feet  impatiently, 
looking  in  amazement  at  the  white,  drawn 
expression  on  his  companion's  face ;  con- 
tinued : 

"You're  ill.  Think  I  am  blind?  Come 
to  the  cabin  and  lie  down." 

"  Sit  down." 

"  Not  for  half  a  second  !  " 

As  he  answered  he  was  cramming 
the  drawing  materials  into  his  pocket ;  con- 
tinued : 

"If  you  want  to  talk  come  into  the  cabin 
and  lie  down.  I'll  talk  to  you  there  till  the 
doctor  comes." 

"Doctor!  Don't  be  absurd!  I  am  all 
right.  I  want  to  talk  to— 

'  Then  come  right  along  into  the  cabin  out 
of  this  sun  ;  talk  there.  It's  my  turn  to  give 
orders.  I'm  going." 

He  moved  away  as  he  spoke,  throwing  a 
glance  over  his  shoulders  :  an  anxious  look. 
He  was  fearing  greatly  for  the  man  whom  he 
had  grown  to  love. 


212  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Masters  rose ;  staggered  up  really.  That 
hot  black  blood  seemed  to  rise  with  him, 
right  up  to  his  brain.  Had  the  effect  of 
making  things  go  whirling  round  and  round 
for  a  minute.  Then  with  an  immense  effort  he 
pulled  himself  together.  Better  perhaps  in  the 
cabin,  out  of  earshot. 

He  must  have  his  talk  out  with  Master 
Dick. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

RESTORED    SIGHT 

DICK  led  the  way  ;  Masters  followed  ;  the 
cabin  was  reached.  The  moment  they 
had  entered,  the  author  put  his  back  against 
the  door  ;  spoke  with  a  gravity  which  alarmed 
his  companion  : 

"You  and  I  have  got  to  have  a  talk.  Plain 
talk." 

Dick's  anxiety  was  evidenced  in  the  tone  of 
his  voice  as  he  said : 

"  All  right,  old  son.  Cackle  for  hours  if 
you  like.  But  I  wish  to  goodness  you'd  lie 
down  and  see  the  doctor  first." 

Masters  disregarded  this  ;  considered  it  a 
flippant,  out-of-place  remark  ;  in  inconceiv- 
ably bad  taste.  Moreover,  he  was  disgusted 
by  Dick's  evasion  ;  by  reason  of  it  went  him- 
self the  straighter  to  the  point : 

"  We  left  off  on  deck  at  where  you  were 
talking  of  your  girl.  You  said  you  were — 
were  not  of  the  marrying  kind  !  " 


214  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  Eh  ?  Yes,  of  course  I  said  so.  It  is  so. 
But  what  on  earth  does  it  matter  what  I 
said  ?  " 

Dick  still  looked  anxious.  Was  making 
all  due  allowance  for  the  fact  that  literary 
fellows  are  inclined  to  be  cranks.  Yet  was 
doubtful  whether  the  man  with  his  back  to 
the  door  was  not  overstepping  the  limits  of 
legitimate  and  traditional  crankiness. 

"  It  matters  a  deal !  " 

Masters  uttered  these  words  so  fiercely  that 
—in  no  way  relieved — Dick  said  : 

"  Does  it  ?  Well  then,  Prince,  old  fellow, 
if  you're  so  anxious  about  my  future  as  all 
that,  I'll  relieve  your  anxiety.  I  can  truth- 
fully tell  you  that  I  have  never  set  eyes  on  a 
girl  yet  that  I  should  be  at  all  likely  to 
marry.  Wine's  been  my  trouble,  not 
women." 

Once  more  the  black  blood  surged  up  ; 
a  curtain  seemed  to  come  up  before  Masters' 
eyes;  a  thick  misty  curtain  blotting  things 
out.  But  he  knew  he  must  keep  his  temper 
in  hand ;  exhibit  only  calmness.  He  would 
gain  more  that  way  :  for  the  child's  sake — 
for  her  sake. 

"  Dick."  He  spoke  with  all  the  earnestness 
in  him.  "  Awhile  back  you  spoke  of  being 
grateful  to  me.  Said  you  would  do  anything 
to — to  please  me." 


RESTORED   SIGHT  215 

"  So  I  would,  old  fellow;  so  I  would.  On 
my  soul  I  would  !  But  I  wish  to  goodness  you 
would  lie " 

Dick's  hand  was  placed  soothingly  on  his 
companion's  shoulder,  as  he  spoke.  Masters 
bore  it,  but  interrupted  expression  of  the 
wish  that  he  would  lie  down  ;  said  : 

"  Suppose  I  put  you  to  the  test  ?  If  I  ask 
you  to  marry  your  girl,  will  you  do  it  ?  " 

"No!  " 

Dick  answered  with  a  laugh.  Despite  the 
anxiety  of  which  he  was  so  full,  he  could  not 
resist  a  feeling  of  amusement  at  the  request; 
added  emphatically : 

"  I  most  certainly  will  not." 

Up  surged  the  blood  again  ;  anger  came  into 
the  eyes  which  flashed  so  ;  almost  blinded  their 
owner.  A  step  forward,  and  he  seized  Dick 
by  the  shoulders ;  held  him  so  firmly,  as  in 
a  vice. 

'  Tell  me."  He  was  speaking  from  a 
throat  the  dryness  of  which  made  it  hoarse. 
"  After  the  way  in  which  you  have  behaved 
to  her — tell  me  why  you  refuse  to  marry 
her  ?  " 

Dick  looked  at  his  companion  doubtfully ; 
had  not  a  trace  of  anger  in  doing  so.  Felt 
that  in  dealing  with  him  the  truth  was  the 
only  thing ;  said  : 

"  Refuse  to  marry  her  ?     Why,  you  con- 


216  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

founded  old  idiot,  you  1     How  on  earth  can 
a  fellow  marry  his  own  sister  ?  " 

"  SISTER  ! " 

Just  the  one  word — he  almost  screamed  it — 
that  was  all  Masters  could  utter.  He  started 
away  and  released  his  hold.  Fell  back 
against  the  door,  in  the  intensity  of  his 
astonishment,  clutching  wildly,  unfeelingly, 
at  the  panels  for  support. 

Dick's  anxiety  rapidly  gained  strength ; 
he  became  more  alarmed  than  ever.  Formed 
the  idea  now  that  this  was  no  passing 
faintness,  but  that  Masters  was  seriously  ill. 
Was  even  afraid  to  leave  him  standing 
there  against  the  door,  for  fear  he  should  fall. 
Suddenly,  flinging  off  his  coat,  he  cried  : 

"  You're  stronger  than  I  am,  and  I  guess 
I'll  get  the  worst  of  it,  but  here  goes." 

He  stood  threateningly  in  front  of  the 
much  bigger  man,  the  light  of  determination 
in  his  eyes  ;  continued  : 

"  Will  you  lie  down  on  that  bunk  and  let 
me  fetch  you  the  doctor  ?  Refuse,  and  as 
sure  as  I  stand  here  I  shall  try  my  hardest  to 
make  you." 

Masters  pressed  his  hands  to  his  aching, 
throbbing  forehead.  His  mind  was  whirling 
so,  that  it  was  no  wonder  he  staggered.  His 
brain  did  not  seem  able  to  hold  the  blend : 
could  not  contain  so  much  happiness  and  so 


RESTORED   SIGHT  217 

much  condemnation  of  himself,  for  his  un- 
utterable foolishness.  True  to  his  threat, 
Dick  advanced  ;  Masters  warded  him  off. 

"  Don't,  Dick !  Just  a  moment,  old 
fellow.  .  .  I  don't  want  a  doctor.  What 
you  have  just  said  has  done  me  more  good 
than  a  syndicate  of  all  the  doctors  in  the 
world  could  effect." 

He  laughed  weakly,  foolishly  :  by  no  means 
a  confidence-inspiring  laugh.  The  mirth,  if 
such  it  could  be  called,  and  the  change  of  tone 
were  even  more  disturbing  to  the  listener. 

"  What  have  I  said  ?  Here,  Prince,  you 
are  going  off  your  nut,  old  man  ;  that's  what's 
the  matter  with  you  !  I  thought  it  when  you 
began  this  game,  but  I  didn't  like  to  say  so ; 
I  must  now.  Sitting  in  the  sun  so  much 
has  given  you  a  mild  attack  of  sunstroke. 
If  you've  any  feeling  that  you  would  like  to 
knock  me  about,  now's  your  time  to  indulge 
it ;  for  I  am  going  to  try  to  make  you  come 
away  from  that  door." 

"  Dick  !  My  dear  boy  !  I  assure  you  I  am 
all  right !  All  I  want  is  a  talk- 

"  Talk !  Great  Scott !  Have  you  done 
anything  else  ?  This  has  been  like  a  tabbies' 
tea-fight !  There's  been  enough  chatter  to 
keep  a  tree-full  of  monkeys  going  !  Talk  ! 
Christopher  Columbus  !  It's  been  a  perfect 
Niagara  of  jaw  !  " 


2i8  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  There,  I'll  lie  in  my  bunk  if  it  will  please 
you,  Dick." 

"  It's  that,  or  sudden  death  from  a  blow  of 
this  ought-to-be  brawny  arm  !  Money  or 
your  life  was  never  uttered  more  seriously 
than  I  am  talking.  The  doctor " 

"  Don't  go  for  the  doctor,  Dick,  please.  I 
don't  need  him.  I  am  all  right  now." 

"  I've  only  your  word  for  that ;  I  may 
tell  you  that  your  face  doesn't  lend  any 
confirmation  !  You  look  as  if  you'd  lost  your 
seven  senses  and  couldn't  say  Bo!  to  a 
goose  !  Are  you  better  ?  .  .  .  Really  ?  Honour 
bright  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes.  Tell  me,  Dick,  if  she  is 
your  sister,  who  is  Gracie  ?  " 

It  looked  like  a  turning  of  the  tables ! 
Was  Dick's  turn  to  start  and  exhibit  sur- 
prise.      His    was    the    wide-open-eyed-and- 
mouthed    type    of    astonishment ;    showed 
plainly  in  his  face  ;  deception  was  a  thing  un- 
known   to    him.     A    moment's    wondering 
silence  ;  then  he  inquired : 

"  Who' s  Gracie  ?  How  the  dickens  did 
you  know  there  was  any  Gracie  ?  Why,  she's 
her  kid,  of  course  ;  my  little  niece  !  " 

At  that  the  man  in  the  bunk  laughed. 
Almost  his  old  hearty  ringing  laugh  again. 
But  even  yet  it  retained  a  tone  of  wildness ; 
he  cried : 


RESTORED   SIGHT  219 

"Blind!  Blind !  Blind !  What  a  crass 
idiot ;  what  a  senseless  fool  I  have  been  !  " 

Dick  scratched  his  head ;  these  sudden 
changes  of  mood  were  too  much  for  him ; 
said : 

"  Well,  you  certainly  are  behaving  in  first- 
prize-gold-medal  idiotic  fashion  !  But  the 
puzzle  to  me  is,  how  the  deuce  did  you 
know  anything  about  little  Gracie  ?  " 

"  Know  about  her  ?  I  actually  know  her  ! 
Good  heavens !  How  clear  it  all  seems 
now." 

"  Does  it  ?  That's  all  right !  I  may  be 
permitted  to  remark  that  our  ideas  on 
opaqueness  would  be  likely  to  differ  !  " 

"  It  was  she — oh,  Dick,  Dick,  Dick ! 
Don't  you  understand  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  help  doing  so — when  you  are 
so  lucid  !  You  brainless  old  firework,  you ; 
let  off  some  more  crackers." 

"  Dick  !  Dick  !  It  was  she,  she  who  chris- 
tened me  Prince ! " 

"  What !  Why,  you  said  it  was  the  girl 
to  whom  you  had  spoken  about  marriage  !  " 

"  Quite  right." 

The  idea  returned  to  Dick  that  there  must 
be  something  wrong,  very  wrong — as  he  put 
it — in  Masters'  upper  storey.  Marriage ! 
With  Gracie  !  It  was  simply  too  absurd  for 
words  ;  he  said  : 


220  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  You  jibbering  old  idiot,  you,  what  do  you 
mean  ?  Grade  isn't  five  years  old  !  " 

"  I  know !  I  know !  I  know !  And  yet  a 
month  ago  at  Wivernsea  I  promised  her, 
if  when  she  grew  up  she  wanted  to  marry  me — 
which  she  won't — that  I  would." 

"  Wivernsea  !   Why,  you  know  my  sister  ! " 

Masters  started  up.  Gripped  the  boy  by 
both  shoulders  and  shook  him.  Happiness 
struggled  with  the  tears  in  his  eyes  as  he 
said : 

"  Dick,  just  a  wee  while  ago — forgive  me 
for  it,  laddie — I  hated  you  !  Now  I  love  you  ! 
I  love  you  !  I  love  you  !  You've  told  me 
just  the  best  news  I've  heard  for  years." 

"  That's  all  right,  old  man." 

He  shook  himself  free,  and  ruefully  rubbing 
his  shoulders,  continued: 

"  What  that  news  may  be  I  don't  know ; 
it's  beyond  my  intellect's  horizon.  However, 
as  it  pleases  you  it's  sufficient — so  long  as 
it  doesn't  hurt  me.  Don't  make  me  black  and 
blue  in  the  exuberance  of  your  affection. 
As  the  poet  hath  it :  It's  all  very  well  to 
dissemble  your  love,  but  why  do  you  kick 
me  downstairs  ?  " 

"I'm  sorry,  Dick — really  sorry.  Did  I 
hurt  you  ?  I'm  so  full  of  happiness  that  I 
could  kick  myself  for  having  been  such  a 
fool  all  this  horrible  long  time." 


RESTORED   SIGHT  221 

"  You  speak  in  the  past  tense.  Seems  to 
me  the  foolishness  is  only  just  coming  to  a 
head !  " 

"  Stop  your  chaff,  there's  a  good  fellow. 
You  can  use  that  later  on.  Just  now  it's 
almost  life  and  death  with  me.  What's 
your  sister's  full  name,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Full  name  ?  Mabel  Seton-Carr,  of 
course  !  " 

"  Of  course  !  Of  course  !  Of  course  !  Didn't 
Gracie  write  it  in  full  in  my  book  ?  " 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  know  !  I  shouldn't 
think  it  would  add  to  the  book's  sale  if  she 
did — with  my  remembrance  of  her  pothooks 
and  hangers.  You  don't  live  at  Wivernsea, 
do  you  ?  I  never  heard  that  there  was  a 
lunatic  asylum  there  !  " 

"  Lived  there  for  years  !  " 

"  Oh !  Then  perhaps  you  knew  Mabel's 
husband,  Seton-Carr,  when  he  was  alive  ?  " 

"  When — he — was — alive  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Of  course !  You  blithering  old 
idiot,  you ;  what  are  you  looking  at  me  like 
that  for  ?  You  don't  think  that  I  am  such 
an  utter  egregious  ass  as  to  suggest  that 
you  have  known  him  since  his  death,  do 
you  ?  " 

"  How  long,  Dick — how  long — how  long 
has  he  been  dead  ?  " 

"  Nine — ten  months  now.    Between  our- 


222  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

selves,  there  was  not  much  to  regret  when  he 
added  his  signature  to  the  big  death-roll. 
Though  it's  not  customary  to  speak  truth  of 
a  man  who  can't  speak  for  himself,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Blind  !  Blind  !  Blind  !  She's  a  widow  ! 
Of  course  !  What  a  fool — what  a  fool  I  have 
been  !  " 

"  Hear,  hear — large-sized  kind  !  " 


CHAPTER  XXV 

EJECTED   FROM  THE   CABIN 

MASTERS  remained  buried  in  thought 
for  a  few  moments.  The  sudden 
opening  of  his  eyes  and  the  refreshing  news 
were  almost  overpowering  him. 

Presently  he  looked  up  at  his  companion, 
who  was  watching  him  closely  ;  said  : 

'  You  can't  think,  Dick,  my  dear  boy,  what 
a  big  fool  I  have  been  making  of  myself." 

"  No — I  can't.  If  it  was  any  foolishness 
bigger  than  your  present  size,  it  must  have 
been  simply  colossal !  " 

'  You  told  your  sister  of  me  in  your  letter. 
Did  you  mention  me  as  Prince  Charlie  ?  " 

"  Of  course  !  " 

"  She'll  know  !  Shell  guess  !  I  am  glad. 
Thanks !  Thanks !  Thanks !  " 

He  seized  and  wrung  the  hand  of  the 
amazed  Dick,  utterly  ignoring  his  feelings. 
Only  felt  that  he  must  do  something  to 
relieve  his  own.  He  reta:ned  just  sufficient 


224  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

self-control  to  keep  himself  from  indulging 
in  a  wild  dance  of  jubilation. 

Dick,  affecting  to  nurse  crushed  fingers, 
made  an  effort  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  things. 
Usually  he  accepted  circumstances  without 
inquiry  as  to  their  source ;  but  suspicion 
was  roused  in  him  now.  It  was  suspicion 
of  a  kind  that  he  wanted  to  make  into  cer- 
tainty ;  he  said  : 

"  A  few  minutes  ago  you  expressed  regret 
that  I  had  mentioned  you  at  all  in  the  letter." 

"  I  know  !  But  a  few  minutes  ago  things 
were  all  gloomy  and  black  and  ugly  !  Now 
they  are  all  bright,  rose-coloured  and  lovely. 
The  sun  has  risen  !  The  pulse  of  day  is 
beginning  to  beat !  " 

"  I  say,  old  chap — how  much  a  thousand 
words  do  you  get  for  that  kind  of  thing  ? 
You  roll  it  off  as  naturally  as  water  rolls  off 
a  duck's  back." 

"  When  do  we  reach  London,  Dick  ?  " 

"  Reach  London  ?  Are  you  mad  ?  Why, 
we  haven't  turned  round  on  our  homeward 
journey  yet !  " 

"  There's  some  sort  of  overland  route,  isn't 
there  ?  We  can  get  back  quicker  ?  " 

"  Quicker  ?  You  are  mad  !  It  was  only 
this  very  morning  that  you  were  expressing 
regret  that  the  time  of  the  trip  wasn't  going 
to  be  double  the  length  !  " 


EJECTED   FROM   THE   CABIN       225 

rt  This  morning  was  then  !  Now  is  now  ! 
Oh,  Dick,  you  stony-hearted,  wicked  villain 
you ! >J  He  sprang  laughingly  over  to  the 
boy  as  he  spoke.  "  Why  didn't  you  say 
before " 

"  Keep  off !  " 

Dick,  dodging,  picked  up  the  first  thing 
his  hands  rested  on  and  assumed  a  burlesque 
attitude  of  threat  as  he  continued: 

"  Assault  me  again  with  one  of  your 
hundred-ton  affectionate  squeezes,  and  I'll 
blow  your  brains  out  with  this  telescope. 
Throw  up  your  hands  !  '; 

"  I  surrender  !  " 

Masters  laughingly  fell  in  with  the  other's 
burlesque  melodramatic  humour  ;  continued : 

"  I  am  a  bear,  but  a  tamed  one.  I  haven't 
a  squeeze  left  in  me  !  " 

"  Perhaps  your  Royal  Highness  is  saving 
them  up,"  suggested  Dick,  his  eyes  twinkling 
as  he  spoke.  "  I  begin  to  have  a  grave  sus- 
picion— garnered  from  some  of  your  rambling 
ravings — that  you  have  designs  on  my  sister ! " 

"  I  have,  Dick,  I  have  !  " 

"  Open  confession  is  good  for  the  soul ! 
But  you  don't  fool  me.  I  should  be  false 
to  every  sense  of  brotherly  duty  if  I  failed 
to  warn  her  against  your  embraces.  I  shall 
bear  the  marks  of  one  of  them — on  my 
shoulder — to  the  grave." 

p 


226  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  Dear  old  Dick  !  "  Masters  started  for- 
ward impulsively :  "I  am  ever  so  sorry 
that- 

"  Keep  off !  Keep  off !  If  you  don't  I'll 
scream  for  help  !  " 

Masters'  thoughts  went  off  at  a  tangent. 
Love  is  a  leveller.  Even  authors,  under  the 
influence  of  that  other  circumstance  to  which 
all  flesh  is  heir,  are  not  superior  to  a  passion 
for  the  conjunction  of  octavo  sheets  and 
pens.  It  found  expression  in  Masters'  exclam- 
ation : 

"  The  letters  !  " 

Dick,  inexperienced  in  such  matters,  failed 
to  understand.  His  denseness  was  irritating. 
He  was  aware  of  that,  but  only  with  intent 
to  provoke,  ejaculated  : 

"  Eh  ?  " 

"  The  letters  !  Don't  you  understand  ? 
We  haven't  touched  port  yet — not  near  it." 

"  Four  hours  off  yet." 

"  Then  I  shall  have  time  to  write  to  your 
sister  myself." 

"  What — in  four  hours  ?  Bold  adven- 
turer !  If  at  first  you  don't  succeed,  try, 
try,  try,  again.  Your  bravery  unmans  me  ! 
Excuse  these  tears  !  " 

"  Clear  out  of  this  cabin,  Dick,  and  leave 
me  to  myself.  I  want  to  write." 

"  What !     For  four  hours  ?     I'll  be  hanged 


EJECTED   FROM    THE   CABIN       227 

if  you  do !  Four  hours  of  letter  from  a  man 
in  your  condition  would  prove  deadly  to  the 
woman  receiving  it.  I  won't  be  party  to  such 
inhumanity." 

"  Will  you  go  out  ?  " 

"  No,  I  won't !  I  paid  the  ship  people  for 
half  this  cabin,  and  I'm  going  to  assert  my 
rights.  .  .  .  Keep  off,  Prince  Charlie.  If  you 
put  a  finger  on  me  I'll  have  you  tried  by 
court-martial,  and  sentenced  to  walk  the 
plank!" 

"  Will  you  leave  peaceably  then  ?  " 

"  No,  I  won't ;   keep  off !  '' 

Dick  was  thoroughly  enjoying  the  situation 
now  ;  his  face  was  one  huge  beaming  grin  as 
he  continued  : 

"  Besides,  I  am  going  to  write  a  letter 
myself.  To  my  sister,  warning  her  against 
the  introduction  of  a  lunatic  into  the  family. 
She  has  been  good  to  me,  and  I  shall  take 
this  opportunity  of  making  some  return  for 
it." 

"  You  wrote  your  letter  to  her  this  morning 
on  deck  with  the  stub  of  a  pencil.  Go  and 
write  the  other  the  same  way." 

11  Shan't !  Can't  :  want  ink.  Couldn't 
describe  your  vile  character  in  pencil ;  such 
labour  necessitates  ink  :  black  ink." 

"  Out  you  go  !  " 

'  Keep  off !  ...      If  you  evict  me  from 


228  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

my  cabin — I  believe  you  are  a  woild  Oirish 
landlord  in  disguise,  you  spalpeen — I'll  sue 
you  for  damages,  and  have  you  hanged  at 
the  yard  arm." 

"  Out  you  go  !  " 

That  time  the  boy's  dodging  ended  in 
failure ;  his  laughter  rather  handicapped 
him.  The  other,  laughing  triumphantly, 
caught,  struggled  with  and  pushed  him  out 
of  the  cabin.  Clapping  the  door  to,  bolted 
it. 

Then  Masters  sought  again  his  berth, 
intending  to  indulge  in  a  little  castle-building  : 
aerial  kind.  Dick's  tattooing  on  the  door- 
panels  with  his  fists  eliciting  no  reply,  he  bent 
and  shouted  through  the  keyhole : 

'  You  bushranging  brigand !  You  buc- 
caneering bandit !  You  blood-thirsty  old 
skull-and-cross-bones,  you  !  I've  just  remem- 
bered that  this  is  piracy  !  Piracy  on  the  high 
seas  !  I'm  going  straight  to  the  Captain  to 
get  the  handcuffs  polished  up.  I'll  make  it 
my  business  to  see  you  go  back  to  England 
in  irons.  Put  that  in  your  pipe  and  smoke 
it." 

With  that  he  retired — to  the  accompani- 
ment of  a  shrilly  whistled  Rule  Britannia 
and  a  tramp  as  of  soldiers.  Masters  was  left 
the  opportunity  of  writing  his  love-letter. 

He  came  out  of  the  land  of  dreams.    Sat 


down  at  the  table,  and  drew  paper  and  pen 
towards  him,  implements  of  his  trade.  Spent 
time  in  looking  at  the  paper,  pen  in  hand,  but 
no  words  were  formed. 

It  seemed  strange  that  a  man  who  for 
many  years  had  gained  a  living  by  dexterous 
juggling  with  words  should  be  unable  to 
shape  them  now.  But  they  would  not  come, 
to  his  satisfaction. 

"  What  can  I  say  on  paper/'  he  thought, 
"  which  will  exhibit  my  awakened  conscience  ? 
Will  be  sufficiently  contrite  and  penitent  to 
appeal  to  her  ?  Nothing  !  Half  the  meaning 
of  a  letter  lies  in  the  reading  of  it.  She  would 
be  justified,  fully  justified,  from  her  present 
point  of  view,  if  she  were  to  throw  it  into  the 
fire  without  reading  it  at  all." 

A  look  of  gloom  settled  on  his  countenance  ; 
he  asked  himself : 

"  What  right  have  I  to  write  to  her  at  all  ? 
— after  the  way  in  which  I  insulted  her  ?  To 
apologise  on  paper  is  the  act  of  a  coward. 
I  must  go  to  her,  and  hear  her  contempt  of 
me.  I  deserve  it." 

He  did  not  write  his  letter  after  all. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

AS   SOBER  AS   A   JUDGE 

THAT  determination  of  his,  to  wait,  was 
a  hard  thing  for  Masters  to  adhere  to. 
He  knew  it  was  a  wholesome  resolve  ;  at 
the  same  time  the  pill  was  very  bitter : 
uncoated  kind. 

It  is  so  much  easier  to  do  things  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment ;  courage  is  an  unbidden 
lieutenant  then.  Later  on  the  aid  must 
consciously  be  gathered  together. 

Curiously  enough,  Masters  experienced 
pleasure  in  making  the  way  hard  for  himself  ; 
there  was  no  attempt  to  boil  the  peas  before 
putting  them  in  his  shoe.  It  seemed  more 
just  to  her  whom  he  had  wronged,  this 
penance :  a  flagellation  of  his  soul,  as  it 
were. 

"  She  must  witness  my  utter,  abject 
humility,"  he  reflected.  "  Must  hear  my 
prayer  for  forgiveness  of  my  doubt  of  her. 
My  sorrow  must  be  seen  ;  I  can't  paint  it  in 


AS   SOBER   AS   A    JUDGE  231 

pen  and  ink.  Whatever  I  wrote — oh,  the 
voice  is  mightier  than  the  pen  ! — she  might 
refuse  to  forgive  me.  Besides,  if  she  is  fore- 
warned, knows  I  intend  seeking  her,  she  may 
even  refuse  to  see  me.  I  won't  give  her  the 
chance  ;  I  won't  write  at  all." 

That  was  his  decision  ;  the  result  of  half- 
an-hour's  close  thought  and  the  consumption 
of  three  pipes  of  tobacco.  Then  he  sought 
his  companion  on  deck.  Braced  himself  up 
for  the  interview,  rightly  guessing  the  manner 
in  which  he  would  be  assailed. 

"  Hullo  !  "  Dick  grinned.  "  What  have 
you  come  up  on  deck  for — inspiration  ? 
Think  to  infuse  a  sea-kissed  salty  air  in  your 
correspondence  ?  I  wouldn't  lose  any  of 
that  four  hours  if  I  were  you.  How  many 
quires  of  my  superfine  cream-laid  vellum 
note  paper  have  you  consumed  so  far  ?  I 
know  you  haven't  got  any  of  your  own." 

"  Not  a  sheet." 

"  Eh  ?  " 

"  I  have  changed  my  mind." 

"  I  deny  the  possibility  of  that !  You 
haven't  a  mind  to  change  !  " 

"  I  am  not  going  to  write  a  letter  at  all." 

"  What !  After  all  this  fuss  too  !  Well, 
I  am — there  !  After  those  absolutely  brutal 
and  unprovoked  assaults  on  me  too  !  Truly 
has  the  mountain  laboured  !  " 


232  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  What  I  have  to  say  shall  be  uttered 
orally/' 

"  I  doubt  that !  If  my  sister  takes  the 
advice  I  have  given  her  in  this  letter,  you'll 
never  have  a  chance  of  getting  within  ear- 
shot. I  have  told  her  that  you  are  the  most 
violent,  headstrong,  ferocious,  wrathful 
savage  I  ever  met ;  that  you  are  coming 
home.  I  have  advised  her  to  flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come." 

"  You  are  incorrigible,  Dick." 

"  I  like  that !  For  pure  and  adulterated 
cheek,  that  annexes  Huntley  &  Palmers' 
entire  factory  !  I  am  viciously  assaulted  by 
a  rabid  lunatic.  I  am  deprived  of  the  use 
of  ink  and  paper  purchased  with  my  own 
hard  coin.  I  am  thrown  out  of  my  cabin. 
And  the  man  guilty  of  these  foul  crimes 
coolly  stands  in-  front  of  me  with  a  pipe  and 
a  jeering  remark  in  his  mouth.  Incorri- 
gible !  " 

"  My  dear  old  Dick " 

Masters  commenced  a  speech  so ;  putting 
his  hand  on  the  boy's  shoulder  affectionately. 
He  was  interrupted  by  the  cry  of : 

"  Hands  off  !  " 

Dick  assumed  an  appearance  of  abject  fear, 
shivering  like  a  calves-foot  jelly.  It  was 
belied  by  the  grin  he  could  not  keep  off  his 
face  as  he  continued: 


SOBER   AS  A   JUDGE  233 

"  No  more  of  your  affection  !  I  want  to 
walk  ashore.  I  don't  want  to  be  carried 
on  a  stretcher,  maimed  for  life." 

Masters  was  in  earnest :  deadly  earnest. 
He  wished  he  could  get  his  companion  to 
veer  round  from  his  frivolous  mood.  There 
was  a  slight  frown  on  his  face,  as  he  said  : 

"  Will  you  be  serious,  Dick  ?  " 

The  boy  was  not  insensible  to  the  intona- 
tion of  the  words.  Looked  up,  saying  : 

"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  your  sister." 

The  opportunity  was  too  good  to  be  missed  ; 
appealed  irresistibly  to  the  humorous  side 
of  the  listener ;  frivolity  gained  the  day. 
Dick's  nature  was  such  that  happiness  ever 
wanted  to  bubble  up,  and  it  was  so  long  since 
he  had  felt  inclined  to  give  it  a  show.  He 
emitted  a  groan  ;  leaned  back  in  the  deck 
chair  and  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets. 

"  I  thought  that,"  he  said.  "  I  guessed  it ! 
Existence  aboard  this  lugger's  going  to  be 
made  a  curse  to  me  !  I  am  going  to  have 
her  drummed  into  my  ears  all  the  rest  of  the 
voyage." 

"  Dick  !  " 

"  Understand,  Prince  Charleigh,  that  I 
know  her.  Have  known  her  for  nearly  one- 
and-twenty  years.  By  your  own  showing, 
you  have  known  her  little  more  than  a  month. 


234  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

.  .  .  Very  well,  two  months  then.  It's  out 
of  your  power  to  present  her  in  any  light  in 
which  I  haven't  seen  her.  I  know  the  colour 
of  her  eyes,  hair  and  teeth  ;  the  tilt  of  her 
nose  and  the  length  of  it ;  how  she  looks 
when  she's  doing  this,  and  how  she  looks 
when  she's  doing  that.  You  understand  ? 
I'm  not  going  to  be  bored  all  day  long  with 
your  two-months  old  description  of  her." 

"  My  dear  Dick  !  " 

Masters  could  not  help  laughing.  Con- 
cluded that  it  would  be  best  to  let  the  boy 
run  on.  Necessarily  he  must  reach  the  end 
of  his  tether,  and  his  own  turn  would  come 
then,  when,  in  the  natural  course  of  things, 
the  other's  exuberance  had  subsided. 

"  You  may  laugh  !  You're  infected.  The 
disease  is  coursing  through  your  veins.  But 
you're  not  going  to  make  a  victim  of  me. 
When  you  feel  it  coming  on,  you  just  go  to 
the  bows — there's  never  any  one  there — and 
rhapsodize  to  the  ship's  figurehead.  Spare 
me." 

"  Dick !  " 

Masters  spoke  quite  patiently,  smiling  the 
while.  He  was  giving  the  other  his  head  ;  it 
was  his  best,  his  only,  plan. 

"  Grin  on,  you  old  lunatic  !  But  I  warn 
you,  if  you  seek  to  make  my  life  a  misery  by 
pouring  lover-like  descriptions  of  my  sister 


SOBER   AS   A    JUDGE  235 

into  my  unwilling  ear,  I'll  abandon  myself  to 
the  mercy  of  the  ocean,  and  sneak  off  alone 
in  the  Captain's  gig." 

"  Well,  I  do  want  to  talk  to  you  about  your 
sister." 

Dick  groaned  again.  He  was  in  great  good 
humour ;  his  feet  were  beating  a  lively  tat- 
too ;  Masters  continued : 

"  But  I  don't  propose  now,  or  hereafter,  to 
say  one  word  about  her  appearance,  manner 
or  ways." 

"Thanks,  thanks,  kind  sir.  For  this  relief 
much  thanks.  Excuse  this  emotion ;  they 
are  tears  of  relief." 

There  was  a  limit ;  Masters  was  reaching 
it.  Was  forced  into  saying,  half  seriously, 
half  jokingly  : 

"  You  are  the  most  unsympathetic,  hard- 
hearted brute  that  ever  existed." 

Dick  grinned.  It  was  exactly  what  he 
wanted  to  hear ;  took  the  utterance  as  the 
greatest  possible  compliment.  He  was  suc- 
ceeding admirably ;  restraining  his  delight, 
he  said: 

"  Your  flattery  is  too  subtle.  You  wrap 
it  up  too  much :  like  an  American  caramel. 
Please  remember  that  my  perception  is  not 
as  delicate  as  yours." 

"  There  is  one  thing  I  wanted  to  ask  you, 
but  whilst  you  are  in  this  mood,  I  won't." 


236  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

He  turned  to  walk  away.  Dick  realized 
the  possibility  of  carrying  a  joke  too  far  ; 
in  a  minute  was  all  repentance.  He  would 
not  have  wounded  his  friend's  feelings  for 
worlds  ;  called  out : 

"  Come  back  .  .  .  Orate.  I'll  be  as  sober 
as  a  judge." 

He  fully  meant  that. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  FINANCIAL  LOADSTONE 

MASTERS  walked  back  to  where  Dick 
was  sitting ;  stood  facing  the  boy 
again.  It  was  plain  that  he  was  really 
worried ;  evidently  had  something  on  his 
mind.  Dick  paid  as  much  quiet  attention  as 
it  was  possible  for  him  to  bestow  as  the 
author  spoke: 

"  You  will  oblige  me  very  much  by  listen- 
ing. This  business  reminds  me  of  the  boys 
and  the  frog,  and  I  am  not  finding  the  role 
of  frog  a  pleasant  one  to  fill.  If  you  will  drop 
stone  throwing  and  let  me  croak,  I  shall  take 
it  as  a  particular  favour." 

rt  Croak  on." 

"  When  I  told  you  that  I  had  lived  at 
Wivernsea  for  years,  I  should  have  said  only 
a  month  in  each  year.  I  go  down  there  each 
October." 

"  This  is  of  absorbing  interest !  " 

Dick's  intentions  were  good,  but  his  high 


«37 


238  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

spirits  got  the  better  of  him.  The  look  on 
his  companion's  face  induced  him  to  settle 
for  another  effort  of  solemnity. 

"  It  was  necessary  for  me  to  tell  you  that ; 
by  way  of  explanation  of  how  little  I  know  of 
Ivy  Cottage  !  " 

ll  Croak  on." 

Masters  was  leaning  against  the  handrail, 
his  fingers  handling  the  ropes  which  supported 
the  lifeboat.  He  put  both  arms  through 
and,  resting  so,  spoke  on  : 

'  People  in  Wivernsea — who  don't  know 
your  sister — don't  speak  well  of  the  place, 
Dick." 

'  What  do  you  mean — haunted  ?  " 

"  No.     Worse  than  that." 

The  gravity  in  the  speaker's  manner  was 
not  without  its  effect  on  the  boy.  A  spasm 
of  pain  shot  across  his  face  ;  he  sat  up  soberly 
enough  now.  The  feet  ceased  their  drum- 
ming ;  the  hands  came  out  of  his  pockets  ; 
the  air  of  nonchalance  fell  from  him  like  a 
mask. 

"  Worse  ?     What  ?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  am  anxious  to  have 
explained.  In  a  sense,  it  is  no  business  of 
mine,  but  I  want  it  cleared  up  for  your 
sister's  sake  ;  and  I  think  you  ought  to  know." 

"  What  ?  " 

"This  tittle-tattle  I  am  referring  to.     It 


THE   FINANCIAL   LOADSTONE      239 

goes  to  the  length  of  saying  that  people  living 
at  Ivy  Cottage  go  under  false  names.  That 
not  long  since,  the  sheriff  was  in  possession 
under  a  warrant  of  execution  and  the  furni- 
ture was  seized.  Of  course,  I  know  they  are 
all  lies " 

'  You're  wrong,  Prince.  There  is  a  basis 
of  truth  in  it." 

Masters  started  in  surprise.  Dick's  head 
was  bent,  to  hide  the  flush  of  shame  on  his 
face.  He  spoke  in  a  troubled  voice  ;  then 
suddenly  lifted  his  head;  meant  to  speak 
honestly,  said : 

"  I  am  the  foundation  of  that ;  the  miser- 
able cause  of  that  rumour." 

"  You !  " 

'  Yes.  You  can't  help  despising  my 
meanness  when  I  have  told  you,  even  if  you 
don't  already.  It  is  due  to  you  that  I  should 
explain  how  it  came  about.  I  have  had 
drinking  bouts  similar  to  the  last  one  you 
helped  me  out  of " 

"  The  last  one." 

"  Please  God — yes  ;  the  last  one.  At  the 
commencement  of  one  of  them,  about  six 
months  ago,  I  fell  an  easy  victim  to  some 
card-sharpers  ;  I  was  a  stranger  within  their 
gates  and  they  took  me  in — literally.  I  had 
no  more  idea  what  I  was  playing  than  I  had 
of  the  character  of  the  players.  A  thousand 


240  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

pounds  was  the  amount  they  said  I  had  lost, 
and  I  was  too  far  gone  to  deny  it.  Of  course 
I  had  not  that  money  on  me.  I  was  made  to 
sign  a  cheque  they  drew  on  my  bankers  on  a 
half-sheet  of  note  paper  with  a  penny  stamp 
stuck  on  it." 

"  I  see." 

"  I  was  reaching  the  shaky  stage  then, 
Prince,  when  the  hands  need  a  ton- weight 
pressure  to  prevent  their  acting  like  aspen 
leaves.  The  bank  refused  payment  on  the 
ground  of  '  difference  of  signature/  The 
card-sharping  people  consulted  the  six-and- 
eightpenny  fraternity  and  issued  a  writ  for 
that  thousand  pounds.  Served  it  on  me 
whilst  I  was  lying  in  bed  in  a  state  of  mental 
insensibility." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  I  wonder  the  process- 
server  was  allowed  to  enter  your  room." 

"  He  was  the  kind  that  could  not  be  kept 
out.  They  had  a  wily  little  lawyer  acting 
for  them — I  found  this  all  out  afterwards, 
of  course.  He  found  out  the  name  of  the 
medical  man  attending  me  and  presented 
himself  as  the  doctor's  assistant ;  so  served 
me." 

"  What  a  beastly  trick  ! " 

"  Success  attended  its  performance,  though. 
The  game  was  in  their  own  hands,  and  they 
were  playing  it  by  the  end-justifying-the- 


THE   FINANCIAL   LOADSTONE      241 

means  rule.  Eight  days  after  service  judg- 
ment was  signed  and  an  execution  was  put 
in  at  my  sister's  house  at  Wivernsea." 

"  Why  on  earth  there  ?  " 

"  Part  of  the  game  they  were  playing. 
They  had  made  inquiries,  and  found  that  I 
was  living  in  London  at  the  time  in  a  furnished 
flat.  I  suppose  they  relied  on  my  sister 
paying  the  execution  out." 

"  Which  she  did  ?  " 

"  She  flew  up  to  London,  and  consulted 
our  family  lawyer.  He  looked  into  the  thing 
at  the  Law  Courts  ;  read  the  affidavit  of 
service  and  things  of  that  sort ;  saw  that 
the  whole  matter  was  in  order.  They  came 
on  to  see  me,  but  I  was  in  the  snakes-on-the- 
wall  stage  at  the  time  ;  didn't  know  them 
from  Adam  and  Eve.  The  family  lawyer — • 
one  of  the  best,  but  rather  inclined  to  look  on 
the  breath  of  scandal  as  a  fatal  thing — advised 
a  settlement.  Said  that,  even  if  she  turned 
the  execution  out,  they  might  proceed  against 
me  in  bankruptcy.  Pointed  out  that  ex- 
penses were  piling  up,  and — well,  Sis  paid  the 
sheriff." 

"  How  ghastly  !  " 

"  I  used  a  stronger  word.  My  adjectives 
were  like  fireworks,  then  I  came  round  and 
learnt  what  had  been  done  :  but  it  was  too 
late.  All  I  could  do  was  to  give  Sis  a  cheque 

Q 


242  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

for  what  was  paid,  and  ask  her  to  forgive 
me  ;  which,  dearest  of  dear  souls,  she  has 
done  a  dozen  times  in  my  miserable  life." 

Dick  looked  the  picture  of  dejection  by 
the  time  he  had  finished.  Masters  was  not, 
however,  observing  him  :  was  following  out 
his  own  train  of  thought. 

"  Of  course.  That  explains.  News  of  a 
thing  like  that,  and  in  another  name  too, 
would  speedily  spread  over  a  small  place  like 
Wivernsea." 

"  As  easily  as  jam  is  spread  on  a  piece  of 
bread.  I  never  thought  of  that,  though. 
What  a  beast — what  a  perfect  beast  I  have 
been  !  " 

Dick  was  of  an  excitable  temperament : 
the  alcohol  in  his  thermometer — his  spirits — 
was  ever  at  the  fever-heat  of  exuberance  or 
deep  down  at  the  zero  of  dejection.  But 
little  was  needed  to  carry  him  to  either 
extreme :  therein  lay  his  danger.  Masters 
knew  it ;  yet  he  said : 

"If  I  had  only  known  all  this  a  few 
weeks  ago,  I  should  not  be  on  this  boat 
now." 

"  I  am  glad  you  lacked  the  knowledge,  then, 
Prince.  For  if  you  hadn't  come  aboard  when 
you  did,  I  shouldn't  be  here  either." 

Masters  regretted  his  reproachful  speech 
the  moment  it  was  uttered.  Instantly 


THE   FINANCIAL   LOADSTONE      243 

changed  its  tone  ;  put  up  a  warning  finger 
as  he  cried  threateningly : 

"  Dick  !  " 

"  I  know  it,  dear  old  chap ;  I  know  what  my 
intent  was.  But  don't  let's  talk  about  it  now." 

"  Or  ever  again." 

The  cloud  cleared  from  the  lad's  face ;  he 
responded  heartily  : 

"  Right !  " 

At  the  moment  the  gong  sounded  in  the 
engine-room.  An  air  of  bustle  pervaded  the 
ship.  They  looked  to  discover  the  cause. 

"  Hullo  !  Why,  look  here  !  Here  we  are 
at  Madeira." 

They  were.  So  absorbed  had  they  been 
in  conversation  as  not  to  notice  how  near 
they  were  to  land.  The  usual  excitement 
of  a  stoppage  now  occupied  their  attention. 

The  vessel  was  to  stay  at  Madeira  for  a 
time.  Stores  had  to  be  taken  in  and  the 
passengers  allowed  a  chance  of  seeing  the 
place  before  the  vessel  was  turned  for  her 
homeward  voyage. 

Masters  and  Dick  spent  their  whole  time 
on  shore  ;  always  in  each  other's  company. 
The  author  explained  that  he  liked  sympathy 
in  his  admiration  for  the  lions  of  the  port. 
The  one  made  many  sketches  and  the  other 
many  mental  notes. 

They  were  quite  good  friends  again. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

HOMEWARD   BOUND 

TWO  days  after;  La  Mascotte  steamed 
away  from  Madeira.  The  list  of  the 
ship's  passengers  had  been  added  to.  Two 
new  persons  were  aboard,  returning  to 
England. 

Masters  and  Dick  were  seated  on  deck  in 
their  usual  places.  The  one  writing,  the 
other  sketching ;  suddenly  a  voice  behind 
them  said : 

"  If  it  were  needed,  here  is  more  evidence 
of  the  smallness  of  the  world." 

The  voice  had  that  settled  Society  drawl 
about  it.  Particularly  unwelcome  hearing 
away  from  its  proper  setting  :  the  surround- 
ings in  which  it  is  usually  to  be  heard.  In 
its  own  sphere  it  is  bad  enough  ;  is  positively 
jarring  in  the  unconventional  atmosphere  of 
aboard-ship  life. 

At  any  rate,  Dick  found  it  so,  if  judgment 
might  be  framed  from  his  expression.  He 


HOMEWARD   BOUND  245 

looked  the  reverse  of  pleased,  but  subdued 
the  feeling  as  he  turned  round  and  spoke  : 

"  Hullo  !  I  didn't  see  you  come  aboard. 
How  do  you  do,  old  fellow  ?  How  do  you 
do,  Miss  Chantrelle  ?  .  .  .  Let  me  introduce 
Mr.  Masters  to  you."  He  knew  his  friend's 
real  name  now,  and  was  rather  proud  of  it. 
"  Mr.  William  Masters.  .  .  .  Yes,  the  novel- 
ist— Miss  Chantrelle  .  .  .  Her  brother,  Percy 
Chantrelle." 

They  formed,  more  or  less,  a  quartette  on 
the  voyage  home.  Dick  saw  he  was  in  for 
it  and  could  not  help  himself — easy-going 
Dick  !  Occasionally  they  paired  off  :  Miss 
Chantrelle  and  Dick  and  the  two  men. 

Masters  prided  himself  on  possession  of 
an  ability  to  read  faces  ;  he  had  no  liking 
for  the  two  new  ones  which  had  come  aboard 
at  Madeira.  Miss  Chantrelle's  more  espe- 
cially repelled  him.  Not  because  he  preferred 
her  brother  ;  rather  that  he  set  up  a  higher 
standard  as  necessary  for  women  than  men. 

Human  nature  was  a  power  Masters  ever 
recognized.  He  could  forgive  a  man  being 
hard,  calculating  and  selfish,  but  not  a  woman ; 
in  Miss  Chantrelle's  face  he  read  all  those 
attributes.  Still,  they  were  Dick's  friends, 
more  or  less  ;  so,  in  a  measure,  they  became 
his. 

Amy  Chantrelle  was  equally  quick  in  facial 


246  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

perusal ;  speedily  read  distrust  in  Masters'. 
She  had  not  lived  in  the  world  without 
acquiring  its  knowledge  ;  was  wise  enough 
to  appreciate  the  power  in  others  she  possessed 
herself.  She  was  a  distinctly  clever,  shrewd, 
woman  of  the  world. 

Nothing  would  have  arisen  from  all  this, 
but  for  the  rattling  of  Master  Dick's  tongue. 
He  told  of  Prince  Charlie's  matrimonial 
intent  :  the  possibility  of  friend  merging  into 
brother-in-law.  At  heart  he  was  so  proud 
of  this  possibility  that  he  would  have  liked 
to  proclaim  it  from  the  house-tops — mast- 
head would  perhaps  have  been  a  more  suit- 
able word. 

Miss  Chantrelle  listened  with  interest  ; 
.scarcely  sympathetic  interest,  but  the  dis- 
tinction was  not  obvious.  It  was  unobserved 
by  Dick,  and  he  felt  himself  encouraged  to 
expound  the  subject  he  had  so  much  at 
heart.  Was  led  on  to  so  doing  by  skilfully- 
put  questions  such  as  only  a  woman  would 
know  how  to  frame. 

Amy  Chantrelle  was  greatly  displeased ; 
all  her  sympathy  was  assumed.  The  Chan- 
trelles  were  poor.  Both  brother  and  sister 
were  well-favoured  ;  each  looked  to  marriage 
as  a  little  boat  in  which  the  storm  of  life  might 
be  weathered. 

They   inclined   to   the   belief   that   Percy 


HOMEWARD   BOUND  247 

was  a  favourite  with  Mrs.  Seton-Carr.  Now 
that  she  was  a  widow  there  was  hope,  a  very 
strong  hope  too,  in  their  hearts  that  she  might 
be  induced  to  change  her  name  to  that  of 
Chantrelle. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  were  coming  to 
England  for  the  very  purpose  of  trying  to 
induce  her  to  do  so  ;  the  Seton-Carr  bank 
balance  serving  as  the  lodestone. 

They  had  imagined  her  left  fairly  well-to- 
do,  but  when  they  saw  in  the  newspapers 
the  amount  her  husband's  estate  was  sworn 
under,  their  breaths  were  taken  away  !  They 
promptly  packed  and  set  out  for  England, 
home  and  beauty — not  forgetting  the  afore- 
said credit  balance. 

They  were  greatly  disturbed  by  what  they 
heard  on  the  boat :  when  Dick  told  of  the 
position  Masters  was  hoping  to  fill.  The 
disturbance  rapidly  shaped  into  indignation  : 
they  looked  on  it  as  an  endeavour  to  take  the 
bread  from  out  their  mouths.  The  pleasant 
voyage  they  had  looked  forward  to  was  not 
without  its  unpleasant  moments. 

"  Never  mind,  Percy."  The  sister  speak- 
ing to  her  brother  one  day.  "  Given  a  clear 
field,  you  will  go  in  and  win  yet." 

"  The  clearness  of  the  field  is " 

"  Leave  that  to  me ;  I'll  make  it  my 
business  to  see  that  you  have  a  clear  field." 


248  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

The  brother  shook  his  head  as  he  responded 
gloomily : 

'  Easier  said  than  done,  I  fancy,  Sis.  I'm 
not  overbrimming  with  hope." 

"  There  is  no  need  for  despondency.  We 
will  arrange  to  go  to  Wivernsea  right  off. 
That  young  fool  Dick  is  finger-twistable  :  I 
can  make  him  do  anything." 

The  brother  needed  more  than  mere  words 
to  convince  him  ;  observed  sneeringly : 

"  Except  propose  marriage  to  you  !  " 

An  ugly  light  came  into  her  eyes.  His 
shaft  had  gone  in  up  to  the  feather  ;  she  spoke 
bitterly : 

"  Yes.  He  is  not  of  the  impressionable 
kind.  I  don't  suppose  any  woman  will  ever 
get  him." 

"  Odds  on  that,  Amy,  if  you  fail  to  bring 
him  up  to  the  scratch." 

"  But  I  can  make  him  arrange  for  us 
to  visit  there.  His  sister  thinks  every- 
thing of  him.  .  .  .  Masters  won't  go 
there." 

"  Don't  be  so  sure  of  that." 

"  I  am.  He  is  one  of  those  thin-skinned, 
sensitive  sort  of  beasts.  There  has  been 
some  misunderstanding — probably  of  his  own 
creation — which  he  counts  on  being  able  to 
wipe  away.  But  he  has  never  stayed  there  ; 
we  have.  He  goes  year  after  year  to  rooms 


HOMEWARD  BOUND  249 

in  the  place  ;  he'll  put  up  at  the  same  rooms 
again." 

"  Think  so  ?  " 

"  Am  certain  of  it.  I  can  read  the  man  as 
easily — well,  as  easily  as  his  books  are  read." 

"  Yes,  he's  read.  A  popular  writer  like 
that  must  be  earning  pots  of  money  in 
royalties.  Might  be  worth  setting  your  cap 
at,  Amy." 

He  looked  at  his  sister  critically.  She  was 
a  handsome  girl.  The  face  a  trifle  hard, 
perhaps,  but  not  every  man  goes  in  for 
melting  beauty  ;  some  look  for  character — 
so  thought  her  brother. 

Bitter  laughter  shaped  on  her  lips  at  her 
brother's  suggestion ;  a  woman  ever  takes 
defeat  badly  ;  she  replied : 

"  I  am  not  his  sort ;  I  am  not  the  kind  of 
woman  he  writes  about !  He  can  dissect  me, 
probably  has  done  so,  as  easily  as  you  can 
carve  a  pigeon.  Besides,  he's  dead  gone  on 
Mabel." 

"  Curse  him  !  " 

"  By  all  means.  But  whatever  you  do, 
don't  fear  him.  Outwardly  he  is  as  cold 
as  ice ;  inside  there  is  a  raging  volcano. 
Women  don't  hanker  after  that  kind  of  love, 
if  there's  anything  more  outwardly  tempest- 
uous :  like  yourself.  They  are  apt  to  judge 
of  the  surface." 


250  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  Thanks  !  " 

"  Oh  !  It's  true  ;  we  don't  want  to  mince 
words.  That's  where  the  average  woman 
makes  a  fool  of  herself ;  where  your  chance 
comes  in.  Masters  is  worth  fifty  of  you,  but 
there  are  no  scales  to  balance  or  register 
values  of  that  kind." 

"  Thanks  again  !  " 

"  Oh,  we  know  it,  you  and  I.  We  can 
speak  to  each  other  without  putting  foot  on 
the  soft  pedal.  He  has  a  nature  which  would 
make  him  stick  to  a  woman  till,  literally, 
death  did  them  part.  Yours  is  of  the  type 
which  would  prompt  thoughts  of  a  separation 
the  moment  the  woman's  bank  balance  ran 
out." 

"  And  you  ?  " 

He  could  not  resist  the  sneer ;  she  had 
fingered  a  sore  place.  But  he  did  not  hurt 
her  this  time  ;  she  owned  up  at  once : 

"  Cast  in  the  same  mould !  I  did  not 
mean  blame  to  you.  My  own  glass-house 
prevents  stone-throwing.  I  was  merely  stat- 
ing facts  ;  I  would  not  have  them  otherwise. 
Men  like  Masters  are  profitless  in  this  world. 
When  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  the  reward 
is  usually  too  small  to  be  seen  with  the  naked 
eye.  I  have  a  distinct  preference  for  qualifi- 
cations which  are  otherwise." 

Percy    smiled.    Was    full    of    admiration 


HOMEWARD   BOUND  251 

points  for  his  sister.  She  was  the  stronger 
of  the  two  :  he  ever  recognized  that ;  she 
continued  bitterly : 

"  Virtue  is  all  very  well  for  woman  :  it  may 
serve  her  purpose.  For  a  man  it  is  a  useless 
luxury." 

His  own  non-possession  of  it  made  him 
smile  again  ;  she  went  on  : 

"  As  you  don't  seem  inclined  to  take  the 
initiative  I  shall  do  so  myself.  Before  we 
reach  Wivernsea,  Mabel  will  have  received 
a  letter  from  me.  I  am  going  to  write  it 
ready  to  post  at  the  first  port  we  touch.  It 
will  go  by  the  overland  route." 

It  did. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

ACHING    HEARTS    AND    LAUGHING    FACES 

THE  composition  of  the  letter  to  Wivern- 
sea  needed  all  the  powers  Miss  Chan- 
trelle  could  bring  to  bear  upon  it.  They  were 
in  no  way  of  a  mean  order. 

She  did  not,  however,  grudge  time  or 
labour ;  the  expenditure  was  in  a  good  cause  : 
Percy  had  been  on  the  matrimonial  stocks 
too  long  ;  his  was  the  kind  of  beauty  which 
age  withered  rather  than  ripened. 

A  little  sigh  of  content  escaped  her  when, 
at  last,  she  had  finished  writing.  Leaning 
back  in  her  chair,  the  end  of  the  penholder 
between  her  lips,  she  read : 

MY  DEAREST  MAB, — Isn't  it  a  tiny  little 
world  ?  Just  fancy — my  brother  and  I  are 
coming  back  to  England  on  the  same  boat 
your  brother  is  travelling  by  1  Dear  old 
Dick  !  He  looks  so  strong  and  well ;  better 
I  think  than  I  have  ever  seen  him  look.  With 
him  is  Mr.  Masters — oh,  of  course,  I  ought  to 


ACHING   HEARTS  253 

congratulate  you,  oughtn't  I  ? — but  I  will 
leave  that  till  I  see  you.  It  is  a  good  job 
you  are  not  of  a  jealous  disposition,  Mab,  or 
I  am  afraid  there  would  be  a  rough  time  ahead 
for  you  :  Mr.  Masters  is  such  a  dreadful  flirt ! 
He  has  been  most  popular  with  all  the  ladies 
on  board,  and  made  violent  love  to  me  within 
twenty-four  hours  of  meeting  me  !  He  did 
not  succeed  in  my  case,  though  (not  because 
of  you,  my  darling  Mab,  because  I  had  not 
heard  of  your  engagement  to  him  then)  but  / 
do  not  like  a  man  who  makes  love  to  every 
woman  he  meets ;  whom  you  run  across  in 
odd  parts  of  the  boat  engrossed  in  conversa- 
tion with  some  pretty  girl,  generally  a  different 
one  each  time.  But  there,  I  must  not  say 
anything  against  him,  or  you  will  never  for- 
give me.  Besides,  if  you  don't  mind  it,  what 
does  it  matter  ?  Of  course,  there's  no  real 
harm  in  what  he  does — don't  think  I  want  to 
insinuate  that,  it  is  the  last  thing  I  mean — 
as  the  girls  must  know  he  is  only  flirting ; 
perhaps  his  heart  is  with  you  all  the  time. 
How  beautiful  it  must  be  to  have  such  faith 
as  yours — I  am  afraid  I'm  not  gifted  that 
way.  You  must  be  very  fond  of  him  if  ah*  he 
says  is  true  :  that  you  dote  on  the  ground 
he  walks  on,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  Asked  if  the 
marriage  day  had  been  fixed,  he  replied  that 
that  only  rested  with  himself  1  Fancy  that ; 


254  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Aren't  the  men  growing  dreadfully  cheeky  ? 
Your  brother  has  asked  us  to  come  down  to 
Wivernsea  for  Christmas.  I  never  saw  a  man 
grow  so  awfully  white  as  Percy  did  when  h« 
heard  of  your  forthcoming  marriage  to  Mr. 
Masters.  Till  then  I  had  had  no  idea  that- 
he — but  there,  that  would  be  telling  tales  out' 
of  school.  We  are  coming  to  spend  Christ- 
mas, unless,  dear  Mabel,  you  would  ratiier  we 
did  not.  If  for  that  or  any  reason  y^would 
rather  we  did  not  come  just  now,  w^fto  us, 
care  of  Charing  Cross  cloak  room,  when  you 
get  this.  We  shall  quite  understand  that  it  is 
not  convenient  just  now.  You  know  what 
a  dear,  impulsive  boy  Dick  is  ;  he  absolutely 
insists  on  our  coming  ;  says  you  will  be  really 
pleased  to  see  us.  I  do  hope  so,  darling.  I 
have  a  recollection  of  many,  many  happy 
days  spent  with  you. 

With  all  my  love, 

Believe  me,  dearest  Mabel, 
Your  ever  true  friend, 
AMY. 

As  she  folded  the  letter  and  directed  its 
envelope  she  muttered : 

"  I  think  this  puts  a  spoke  in  Prince 
Charlie's  wheel !  If  I  know  anything  of 
Mabel's  pride,  this  won't  ensure  open  arms 
and  the  warmest  of  welcomes  for  him." 


ACHING   HEARTS  255 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  then  laughed ; 
continued : 

"  There  is  no  scrap  of  fear  of  my  letter  ever 
being  produced.  Her  pride  would  not  allow 
her  to  do  that,  and  she  overruns  with  it." 

Amy  Chantrelle  was  a  clever  woman  ;  that 
fact  has  been  recorded.  In  addition  to 
knowing  what  to  say  and  how  to  say  it,  she 
correctly  foresaw  just  the  effect  it  would 
produce.  Her  study  of  womankind  was  a 
very  close  one. 

The  letter  sent  to  Wivernsea  carried  all  its 
intended  evil.  The  descent  of  a  bombshell 
could  not  have  had  a  more  disturbing  effect. 
After  perusal  of  it,  Mrs.  Seton-Carr  was  simply 
furious.  Amy  had  not  relied  on  the  widow's 
pride  in  vain.  Moreover,  her  belief  in  the 
proverb  was  justified  :  throw  enough  mud, 
some  of  it  sticks. 

The  letter  was  read  over  and  over  again. 
Each  time  an  effort  was  made  to  disbelieve 
its  contents,  each  time  the  bad  impression 
became  deeper :  that  there  is  no  smoke 
without  fire. 

Laughter  would  have  resulted  at  the  im- 
pertinence of  Masters'  conduct,  as  detailed 
in  the  letter,  if  she  had  not  cared  for  the 
man.  That  was  the  weak  point. 

Not  a  day  passed  without  her  thoughts 
being  full  of  him.  The  letter  came  as  a 


256  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

blow  ;  a  blow  of  the  severely  hurting  sort. 
Wounded  pride  is  hard  of  healing :  there  is 
generally  some  poison  in  the  wound ;  it  is 
apt  to  spread  too,  and  endanger  the  hurt. 

By  the  same  mail  which  brought  the 
Chantrelle  episode  she  received  a  letter  from 
her  brother  Dick.  It  told  her  that  he  was 
coming  down  to  Wivernsea  to  spend  his 
Christmas  ;  that  Prince  Charlie  was  coming 
too. 

Apart  from  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a 
letter  from  him  written  with  an  unshaking 
hand  and  the  natural  joy  she  felt  at  his  buoy- 
ant style  of  writing,  what  he  said  was  a  big 
annoyance  to  her. 

His  letter  exuded  praise  of  Masters  in  every 
sentence.  It  was  easy  to  read  between  the 
lines  that  he  looked  upon  himself  as  that 
gentleman's  future  brother-in-law.  This  to 
Mrs.  Seton-Carr  could  only  fit  as  a  confirma- 
tion of  her  friend  Amy's  letter. 

Pride  and  a  readily  aroused  temper  usually 
battle  together  with  conspicuous  success. 
Mabel  worked  herself  up  to  such  a  pitch  of 
excitement  that  she  positively  cried.  To 
think  that  this  man — she  knew  in  her  heart 
of  hearts  that  she  loved  him — should  have 
the  effrontery  to  talk  of  her  so  ! 

Was  it  to  be  nothing  but  insult  from  him  ? 
Could  she  not — was  it  not  possible  to — pay 


ACHING   HEARTS  257 

him  back  somehow  ?  What  had  she  done 
that  he  should  single  her  out  for  annoyance. 
Whatever  it  might  be,  when  was  she  to  feel 
herself  free  from  his  cowardly  attacks  ? 

If  only  he  were  open  about  the  matter; 
but  he  was  not.  Then  came  remembrance 
of  the  time  of  Gracie's  convalescence  ;  how 
he  had  ever  treated  her  with  uniform  cour- 
tesy. She  remembered,  and  sighed.  The 
crown  of  sorrow  is  the  remembrance  of  hap- 
pier days. 

The  inaudible  feet  of  Time  continued  their 
never-ending  progress.  It  was  not  a  period 
in  which  Mrs.  Seton-Carr  was  at  ease ;  the 
amount  of  patience  in  which  she  possessed 
her  soul  could  have  been  easily  balanced 
on  a  needle  point. 

The  steamer  bringing  the  quartette  reached 
England.  The  four  passengers  kept  together  ; 
travelled  down  to  Wivernsea  in  the  same 
carriage.  Reached  it  early  in  Christmas 
week. 

Dick's  reluctance  to  allow  Masters  to  go  to 
his  old  lodgings  was  manifest.  There  were 
many  spare  rooms  at  Ivy  Cottage,  he  said, 
so  why  not  go  there  ?  In  his  opinion  it  was 
simply  idiotic  to  pig  in  at  digs.  But  Masters 
had  ideas  of  his  own  ;  at  that  moment  they 
did  not  fit  in  with  his  friend's. 

The  Chantrelles  went  on  with  Dick  to 

R 


258  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Ivy  Cottage.  It  was  arranged  that  Masters 
should  turn  up  there  in  the  evening  in  time 
for  dinner. 

He  had  been  a  trifle  reluctant  to  accept 
that  invitation  at  Dick's  hand,  but  did  so. 
He  could  have  kicked  himself,  later,  for  doing 
so.  As  for  Dick,  the  nearer  they  drew  to 
the  point  where  separation  must  come,  the 
more  full  of  admiration  and  real  affection  he 
became.  He  rested  uneasily  whenever  his 
friend  was  out  of  his  sight. 

Masters  impatiently  ticked  off  the  hours 
till  the  arrival  of  dinner-time.  He  wanted 
so  to  see  the  woman  he  loved.  Wanted  a 
quiet  ten  minutes,  that  he  might  pour  out 
his  heart  to  her.  He  was  willing  to  ask  her 
forgiveness  on  his  knees — had  she  not  knelt 
to  him  ?  Had  a  heart-aching,  a  tongue- 
itching,  to  tell  her  that  she  was  the  one  woman 
in  the  world  for  him. 

Things  are  not  always  disposed  as  man 
proposes ;  he  did  not  tell  her  that.  The 
quiet  ten  minutes  did  not  come.  When  he 
entered  Ivy  Cottage  before  dinner  it  was 
with  a  light  heart,  the  happiest  man  in 
Wivernsea.  He  left  it  after,  with  a  heart 
of  lead,  the  most  miserable  of  men. 

Beneath  the  surface,  the  dinner  party 
was  not  a  success  ;  yet  it  cannot  be  said  to 
have  flagged.  Almost  every  one  was  in 


ACHING   HEARTS  259 

good  spirits,  in  too  good  spirits,  apparently, 
to  trouble  about  the  quiet  man  who  sat  next 
to  Dick. 

Dick  was  thunderstruck  at  his  friend's 
reticence.  Thought  at  first  that  he  must  be, 
ridiculous  as  it  seemed,  suffering  from  shy- 
ness. Mrs.  Seton-Carr  thought  she  was  get- 
ting a  little  of  her  own  back  !  She  got  more  ; 
more  than  all. 

Common  decency  prevented  her  cutting 
Masters  dead.  But,  as  nearly  as  was  con- 
sistent with  common  politeness,  that  was 
what  happened.  As  fuel  to  fire  was  the  open 
and  violent  flirtation  of  the  hostess  with 
Percy  Chantrelle. 

Exultant  as  she  was  of  her  success,  flushed 
as  was  her  cheek  with  triumph — she  knew 
Masters  was  smarting — she  feared  that  she 
almost,  overdid  it.  But  the  pulsations  of 
Percy's  heart  were  accelerated ;  beat  fast 
with  hope  :  so  did  his  sister's. 

It  was  impossible  to  avoid  seeing  Mrs. 
Seton-Carr's  flushed  excitement.  Masters 
noted  too  the  soft  glances  she  shot  across 
the  table  Percy  Chantrelle's  way  ;  noticed 
them  with  a  feeling  at  his  heart  which  was 
more  than  painful. 

The  author  was  in  possession  of  more  than 
his  usual  keenness.  Perhaps  it  out-balanced 
his  power  of  cool  observation.  Anyway,  he 


260  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

saw  not  beneath  the  surface.  The  soundness 
of  his  deductions  suffered  by  reason  thereof. 

They  were  happy  enough,  the  brother  and 
sister ;  the  only  real  happiness  there  was 
around  the  table.  Mabel  was  playing  a 
part  :  playing  it  well ;  wore  her  mask  with 
success.  Her  laugh  rang  out  merrily  at  each 
of  Chantrelle's  jokes.  But  just  as  full  as  her 
face  and  voice  were  of  mirth,  so  was  her  heart 
full  of  ache  and  pain. 

Mrs.  Seton-Carr  would  have  given  worlds 
just  then  to  be  able  to  rise  from  her  table  ; 
she  needed  so  greatly  to  go  to  her  room  for  a 
good  cry.  But  a  Lucifer-like  pride  upheld 
her.  Laugh,  and  the  world  laughs  with  you  ; 
weep,  and  you  weep  alone.  She  knew  that. 

The  men  did  not  remain  long  in  union 
after  the  retirement  of  the  ladies.  To  two- 
thirds  of  the  trinity  the  cigars  seemed 
flavourless.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  their  re- 
spective elements  lacked  the  power  of  com- 
bination. 

The  third  factor,  Chantrelle,  was  happy 
enough  ;  triumph  made  him  so.  But  there 
was  no  infection  in  his  merriment.  As  a 
smoking-room  raconteur  he  was  usually  a 
big  success.  But  to-night  his  best  stories 
fizzled  out  to  lame  and  impotent  conclusions. 

The  laugh  of  approval  was  conspicuously 
absent. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

AS   FAITHFUL   AS   A   DOG 

THE  men  left  the  smoke-room ;  there 
was  no  calumet  of  peace  there.  All 
Percy's  efforts  to  be  entertaining  ended  in — 
perhaps  appropriately — smoke.  They  joined 
the  ladies,  to  find  harmony  and  concord; 
music  was  under  way. 

Masters  was  full  of  thought ;  deep  misery 
kind.  Whatever  charm  music  may  have  to 
soothe  a  savage  breast,  it  had  none  for  him. 
He  was  ever  a  failure  at  social  functions  : 
was  conspicuously  so  to-night ;  detested 
them,  in  fact,  with  a  whole-souled  detesta- 
tion. 

As  to  Dick,  the  gloom  which  had  fallen 
on  him  during  dinner  seemed  too  thick  for 
penetration.  Merry  Dick  belied  his  nick- 
name ;  had  no  more  merriment  in  him  than 
has  a  mute  at  a  funeral. 

In  the  drawing-room  Masters  was  as  miser- 
able as  he  had  been  in  the  dining  and  smoke- 


262  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

rooms.  Turned  over  photographs ;  sought 
in  vain  for  something  to  make  him  look  less 
of  a  fool  than  he  felt.  At  last  came  to  the 
end  of  his  endurance  tether ;  under  a  plea 
of  some  work  he  had  to  post  to  a  publisher 
by  the  early  morning's  mail,  hastily  excused 
himself. 

"  It's  a  glorious  night,  old  chap."  Dick, 
speaking  hoarsely,  and  getting  into  his  great- 
coat. "  I'll  walk  home  with  you.  We  will 
smoke  a  cigar  together." 

Masters  said  good-night ;  shook  hands. 
Noticed  the  burning  heat  of  Mrs.  Seton- 
Carr's,  as  for  a  moment  her  hand  rested  in 
his — but  did  not  accord  the  true  reason  for 
it.  She  was  even  laughing  with  Chantrelle 
at  the  very  moment  she  said  good-night ; 
was  a  natural  actress  :  a  woman. 

"  How  quiet  Mr.  Masters  is."  The  cat  pur- 
ring :  Amy  speaking,  as  the  door  closed. 
"  But  I  suppose,  socially,  authors  are  as 
dull  as  ditch  water.  Keep  all  their  clever 
thoughts  for  their  books.  It  is  selfish  of 
them  in  the  extreme." 

Amy  laughed  gaily ;  continued  in  that 
strain.  Laughter  is  the  allotment  of  those 
who  win  ;  the  Chantrelles  felt  justified  in 
the  belief  that  they  were  in  no  way  losing. 

Mrs.  Seton-Carr  professed  accord  in  the 
opinion  of  Masters'  dulness ;  the  sea  voyage 


AS  FAITHFUL   AS   A   DOG          263 

had  not  improved  him.  Society  was  not  the 
thing  he  shone  in  ;  in  fact,  she  had  found  him 
rather  depressing ;  was  glad  he  left  so  early. 
Lies !  Lies — each  and  every  one  of  the 
opinions  she  expressed. 

The  two  men  who  had  left  the  bungalow 
walked  along  the  Parade  for  a  time  without 
speaking.  Each  was  full  of  emotion.  Dick's 
found  vent  first ;  he  blurted  out : 

"  I'm — I'm  awfully  sorry,  old  man  ! " 

There  was  a  faint  tinge  of  nervousness  in 
Masters'  responding  laugh ;  he  was  not  a 
man  to  assimilate  pity  very  well,  even  his 
best  friends'.  Throwing  away  the  cigar, 
which  had  gone  out,  he  lighted  his  pipe ; 
the  match  betrayed  a  shaking  hand. 

"  Thanks.  .  .  .  Cloudless  night ;  looks 
like  being  a  fine  day  to-morrow,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

The  effort  to  change  the  subject  proved 
futile  ;  Dick  spoke  impulsively : 

"  Hang  the  weather  !  .  .  .  You  don't 
think  I  knew  anything  of  this,  dear  old 
chap " 

"  No  !    No  !  " 

"  — or  you  know  I  should  have " 

"  Yes,  yes.     I  know." 

"  Mab  has  always  professed  to  positively 
loathe  Percy ;  tolerated  him  because  she 
liked  his  sister.  He  is  a  bit  of  a  bounder,  you 
know." 


264  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

'  Your  sister  does  not  seem  to  share  in 
that  opinion  of  yours." 

He  could  not  quite  keep  the  bitterness  out 
of  the  way  in  which  he  said  that. 

"No!" 

The  brother  admitted  it ;  spoke  just  as 
bitterly.  When  they  reached  his  lodgings 
Masters  said : 

"  Come  round,  will  you  ?  ' 

'  You — you  won't  come  on  to  the  cottage 
A  » 

"  Oh,  no  !     No  !  " 

"  No.  I  didn't  expect  you  would.  I  had 
counted  on  things  being  so  different !  Counted 
on  a  merry  Christmas." 

Dick  laughed  as  he  said,  thought  of,  a 
merry  Christmas  :  the  unpleasant,  ironic 
laugh  of  a  disappointed  man.  Just  then  he 
was  as  full  of  disappointment  as  he  could  well 
hold. 

"  I  had  gone  in  for  a  certain  amount  of 
accountancy  too." 

Masters  made  the  response  with  a  little 
catch  in  his  voice,  which  the  assumed  laugh 
could  not  disguise.  He  had  stopped  and  was 
standing  with  his  hand  on  Dick's  shoulder. 

"  Do  you  remember  that  last  time  I  held 
you  like  this,  dear  boy  ?  I  was  so  full  of 
joy  then,  so  blinded  by  it,  to  what  I  was 
doing,  that  you  accused  me  of  squeezing 


AS    FAITHFUL   AS   A    DOG         265 

you  to  hurting  point."  A  sigh  punctuated 
his  speech.  "  I  don't  feel  like  hurting  you 
now." 

"  Squeeze  the  life  out  of  me,  if  it  will  be 
any  relief  to  your  feelings."  Dick  spoke 
gruffly.  "  It's  your  life.  I  shouldn't  be 
living  at  all  if  it  were  not  for  you." 

He  was  a  good  boy  was  Dick,  with  a  heart 
in  him  ;  a  heart  in  the  right  place.  It 
grieved  him  to  see  even  the  suspicion  of  a 
tear  in  the  eye  of  the  friend  he  loved  so 
well. 

His  own  brown  eyes  looked  into  the 
author's  with  silent,  dog-like  fidelity  and 
sympathy.  Masters  was  not  insensible  to  it. 
It  was  an  eloquent  silence  ;  expressed  far 
more  to  him  than  words  could  have  done. 

"  I  made  a  mistake,  Dick  ;  that's  all.  I 
suppose  all  of  us  do  ;  the  world  seems  so  full 
of  them.  .  .  And  let  this  be  the  last  of  it, 
dear  old  man,  will  you  ?  Don't  recur  to  it 
ever  again  ;  please.  The  sore  is  fresh,  and — 
and — I  don't  mind  owning  to  you,  it  hurts. 
Please  don't  let  us  talk  about  it — ever  again 
— please." 

Dick  grasped  the  hand  extended  to  him ; 
held  it  in  a  long,  tight  grip.  Put  his  other 
hand  on  his  companion's  shoulder,  and  was 
about  to  speak.  Then  felt  that  speech  would 
be  a  failure  ;  simply  said  gruffly  : 


266  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning,  old  man  ; 
I'll  walk  round.  Good-night." 

Not  another  word  passed  between  them ; 
a  tight  hand-grip  and  they  parted.  Masters 
to  his  rooms,  Dick  homeward  bound — a 
journey  he  made  with  the  blood  coursing 
through  his  veins  at  boiling  point.  He  had 
more  than  a  little  of  his  sister's  temper. 

Dick  was  simply  furious  at  the  manner  in 
which  Mabel  had  treated  Masters.  He  dared 
not  trust  himself  to  more  talk  that  night. 
Just  looked  into  the  drawing-room  at  the 
bungalow,  professed  weariness,  said  a  hurried 
good-night  and  retired  to  his  room. 

In  the  morning,  Gracie  offered  strong 
evidence  that  she  had  a  tongue  in  her  head ; 
was  full  of  the  return  of  Prince  Charlie.  She 
had  heard  of  his  arrival  with  delight ;  was 
running  over  with  anxiety  to  see  him.  In- 
stinctively she  felt  that  Uncle  Dick  was  the 
ways  and  means.  When  she  heard  that  he 
was  going  to  call  on  Masters  that  morning, 
she  emulated  the  limpet ;  he  could  not  have 
shaken  her  off  had  he  tried. 

"  Get  your  things  on,  Puss,"  said  Dick, 
as  the  breakfast  things  were  being  cleared 
away,  "  and  I'll  take  you  round  to  see  him." 

Miss  Chantrelle  professed  the  most  acute 
astonishment.  Not  so  much  by  what  she 
said,  but  the  way  she  acted.  Wasn't  Mr. 


AS  FAITHFUL   AS   A    DOG          267 

Masters  coming  in  to  lunch  ?  .  .  .  Nor  to 
dinner  ?  Not  at  all  that  day  ?  .  .  .  Those 
carefully  combed  eyebrows  of  hers  almost 
disappeared  under  her  fringe — she  was  so 
surprised ! 

Gracie  had  scampered  off  and  returned  in 
full  war-paint  :  best  hat,  best  shoes,  best  coat 
and,  crowning  glory,  new  muff !  She  did  hope 
Prince  Charlie  would  notice  it  and  ask  her 
all  about  it.  But  if  he  did  not,  she  could  tell 
him.  That  is  one  of  the  advantages  of  being 
very  young. 

When  Gracie  and  Dick  had  gone  out,  Miss 
Chantrelle  improved  the  opportunity  with 
her  hostess.  Nearly  drove  that  lady  to  the 
brink  of  madness  by  her  anxiety  to  know  if 
they  had  quarrelled ;  what  it  meant ;  why 
he  wasn't  coming,  etc. 

Mabel  did  not  know  ;  really,  the  matter 
was  of  little  interest  to  her.  His  presence 
made  very  little  difference ;  she  wondered 
Amy  could  bother  about  him. 

That  was  what  she  was  able  to  bring  her- 
self to  say.  But  the  effort  was  a  big  one ; 
she  was  not  a  conspicuous  success  in  lies  of  the 
top-notch  kind. 

Matters  continued  in  this  way.  Things 
are  not  always  what  they  seem ;  it  was  by 
no  means  a  pleasant  little  party  at  Ivy 
Cottage.  When  at  home — which  was  a  very 


268  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

rare  thing,  for  he  spent  most  of  his  time  at 
Masters'  lodgings — Dick  was  sulky  to  the 
extreme  of  sullenness. 

Affairs  wore  a  different  complexion  a  little 
later.  When  the  rosy  finger  heralded  the 
dawn  of  the  day  before  Christmas,  it  was 
the  precursor  of  brightness  of  another  kind. 
Two  incidents  happened  which  changed  the 
current  of  things. 

Miss  Chantrelle  had  the  watchful,  veiled 
eyes  of  the  domestic  cat.  On  the  principle 
of  striking  the  iron  whilst  hot,  she  urged 
her  brother  to  propose  marriage  to  their 
hostess  forthwith.  Thought  that  delays  were 
dangerous. 

She  took  him  out  for  a  walk  to  discuss  the 
pros  and  cons  of  the  proposal.  Was  a  wise 
little  woman,  and  a  firm  believer  in  the  theory 
that  walls  have  ears.  Knowing  what  she 
knew,  she  mapped  out  the  route  her  brother 
was  to  travel  in  his  journey  to  Mrs.  Seton- 
Carr's  heart. 

But  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  too 
clever  :  so  sharp  that  one  cuts  oneself.  The 
average  brain  has  a  direct  way  of  working  ; 
sees  no  by-paths,  so  wastes  no  time  on  them  ; 
.goes  straight  to  the  point. 

Amy's  cleverness  led  to  her  undoing. 


T 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

A  TEACUP   STORM 

HE  coast  being  clear,  Dick's  storm- 
cloud  burst.  The  Chantrelles  out  for 
their  walk,  he  imagined  them  to  be  washing 
their  domestic  dirty  linen,  he  took  the  floor. 

Being  alone,  he  meant  having  it  out,  as  he 
termed  it,  with  his  sister.  Had  quite  deter- 
mined on  doing  it  very  quietly  and  calmly. 
Whistling  a  few  bars  of  Rule  Britannia  by 
way  of  appropriate  prelude,  he  said  suddenly : 

"  I  am  expecting  one  or  two  important 
letters,  Mab.  I  wish  directly  they  come  you 
would  send  them  to  the  post,  will  you — re- 
directed to  my  club  ?  " 

"  Re-directed — to — your — club  !  " 

"  Yes.  I  have  not  quite  made  up  my 
mind  where  I  shall  put  up,  but  I  am  bound 
to  go  into  the  club  each  day.  You  won't 
forget,  will  you  ?  " 

He  made  a  pretended  movement  in  the 
direction  of  the  door.  She  was  on  her  feet 
in  a  moment,  stopping  him  ;  stood  by  his 


270  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

side  in  dismay.  Seized  the  lapels  of  his  coat 
and  looked  at  him  reproachfully,  horror- 
stricken  ;  fear  for  him  tearing  at  her  heart- 
strings. 

"  Dick !  " 

"  Hullo !  " 

"  What — do — you — mean  ?  " 

"  What  do  I  me — .  Surely  I  spoke  plainly. 
I  just  want  you  to  re-direct 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes.     But  you  are  here  !  " 

"  Ah !  Now.  But  I  am  going  up  to 
London  by  the  afternoon  train." 

"To— London!" 

"  Yes." 

Mabel's  heart  sank.  She  read  obstinacy 
in  that  frowning  face  of  his  ;  knew  what  sort 
of  thing  that  was  to  fight ;  had  had  experi- 
ence of  it.  She  played  what  was  usually  a 
trump  card. 

"  And  at  Christmas  time,  too !  Christ- 
mas !  You  will  leave  me  here  alone  ?  " 

"  Alone  ?  Well— I  like  that !  You  have 
got  your  dear  friends,  the  Chantrelles.  There 
isn't  much  of  a  lonely  look  about  you  when 
Percy  is  around." 

"Dick!" 

"  Hullo  !  " 

"  Don't  be  horrid  !  " 

"  Why  ?  Do  you  claim  a  monopoly  of  the 
right  to  be  so  ?" 


A    TEACUP   STORM  271 

"  Dick  !  " 

Her  eyes  were  flashing  now ;  her  face  had 
gone  crimson-coloured,  and  her  little  foot 
was  tapping  the  floor.  She  had  emotions 
which  ran  up  her  thermometer  with  the 
rapidity  of  a  lightning's  flash.  The  altitude 
of  their  tempers  just  then  was  about  equally 
high. 

"  Don't  keep  calling  me  Dick  like  that," 
he  said.  "  It's  irritating." 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  With  me  ?     Nothing  !  " 

"There  is." 

"  Very  well,  there  is.  Have  your  own 
way.  I  know  that  way — you  are  like  the 
Pears'  Soap  boy — you  won't  be  happy  till 
you  get  it." 

"  Dick  !  "  She  almost  spat  out  his  name 
in  her  fierce  emphasis.  "  You  are  not  going 
— you  shall  not  go  to  town  to-day  !  " 

"  All  being  well,"  he  replied  calmly — white 
heat  calm — "  I  shall  catch  the  three-thirty- 
five  up." 

She  was  white  too,  with  annoyance. 
Managed  to  choke  down  some  of  the  things 
she  was  burning  to  say  ;  was  alive  to  what 
their  effect  would  be  if  uttered.  She  knew 
Dick  ;  experience  had  taught  her  how  large 
was  the  amount  of  patience  needed  to  cope 
with  his  impetuosity.  Her  foot  heavily  on 


272  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

the  pedal  of  her  temper,  she  gave  forth  sweet 
sounds : 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  Tell  me,  Dick. 
Why  are  you  going  ?  " 

The  voice  was  so  very  gentle  that  it  hurt 
Dick  to  hurt  her.  But  he  persisted — the 
little  wretch,  to  treat  his  best  friend  so  ! — she 
deserved  it.  Yawning,  he  said : 

"  Oh,  I  feel  like  spending  a  merry  Christ- 
mas. The  kind  of  thing  that  clings  to 
Christmas  cards  and  Dickens  was  so  full  of, 
you  know.  I  am  afraid  there  isn't  enough 
merriment  to  go  round  here  ;  not  enough 
to  satisfy  a  man  with  a  large  appetite  for  it." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Way  it  is  dished  up,  I  suppose  :  surround- 
ings. I.  don't  like  your  friends " 

"  My  friends  !  " 

The  foot  slipped  off  the  pedal :  the  note 
of  temper  sounded  as  she  blazed  out  indig- 
nantly : 

"  Who  asked  them  here  ?  " 

Dick  shrugged  his  shoulders.  Otherwise 
disregarded  her  interruption  as  he  continued : 

"  — you  positively  insult  mine." 

"  Insult !  " 

"  I  think  that's  the  correct  word ;  I  can't 
find  a  more  expressive  one  lying  about." 

"  Pray  who  are  the  friends  of  mine  that 
you  do  not  like  ?  " 


A    TEACUP   STORM  273 

"  Refrain  from  the  obvious  !  You  haven't 
fifty  thousand  of  them  staying  in  the  house 
just  now  !  " 

"  The  Chantrelles,  you  mean.  I  repeat, 
who  invited  them  here  ?  Answer  me  !  " 

She>  stamped  her  foot  as  she  let  loose  her 
shaft.  It  went  home  this  time  :  buried  its 
head,  rendering  Dick  furious.  He  had  cursed 
himself  a  hundred  times  for  being  the  cause 
of  their  presence.  But  for  that 

"  Look  here,  Mab,  you  and  I  don't  want 
to  quarrel.'' 

A  quarrel  just  then  was  the  thing  he  was 
itching  for  ;  if  he  could  have  hit  something 
or  somebody  it  would  have  been  an  immense 
relief  to  his  feelings  ;  he  went  on : 

"  I  have  a  friend ;  a  man  who  saved  my 
life  !  A  man  who  devoted  himself  to  me  ; 
but  for  whom,  I  should  be  now  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea." 

"  Dick  !  " 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  All  the 
memories  she  had  thrust  aside,  grateful 
memories,  rushed  back  on  her.  She  did 
not  want  Dick  to  see  what  she  knew  her 
face  would  show  :  horror  of  her  own  ingra- 
titude to  Masters.  The  recollection  of  all 
he  had  done  for  her  brother  flooded  her. 

"  Oh,  it's  true  !  I'm  not  romancing.  When 
I  said  good-bye  to  you  in  that  Lambeth 

s 


274  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

bedroom,  I  meant  it  to  be  a  good-bye.  I 
went  on  board  that  boat  with  the  full  inten- 
tion of  making  a  hole  in  the  water." 

"  Dick  !     Dick  !     Don't  say  it !  " 

"  I  do  say  it.  I  say  it  emphatically.  Life 
didn't  seem  worth  the  living  to  me.  Masters 
shared  my  cabin  ;  nursed  me  ;  tended  me  ; 
made  me  see  things  differently.  In  fact, 
made  a  man  of  me.  When  I  think  of  him, 
and  all  he  did  for  me,  I  cry  from  my  heart : 
God  bless  him  !  God  bless  him  !  " 

He  turned  his  head  that  she  might  not  see 
the  tears  filling  his  eyes  ;  continued : 

"  When  I  think  of  the  debt  I  owe  him,  a 
debt  I  would  pay  with  my  life  cheerfully  if 
it  would  help  him,  I — I — I " 

She  interrupted  him ;  was  standing  close 
to  him  again,  white-faced,  dry-eyed,  breath- 
ing heavily. 

"  Dick  !  Dick  !  "  she  gasped.  "  You  don't 
know  how  you  are  hurting  me  !  " 

"  And  I  bring  him  here,"  he  spluttered, 
"  to  your  home.  Because  it  was  the  only 
place  I  could  bring  him  to  ;  because  I  thought 
my  sister  loved  me,  that  she  would  stretch  out 
a  warm  hand  of  welcome  to  the  man  who 
saved  me.  What  happens  ?  What  happens  ? 
She  doesn't  throw  the  plates  and  dishes  at 
him,  but,  by  God !  I  wish  she  had !  It 
would  have  been  better  than  the  cold, 


A    TEACUP   STORM  275 

cutting,  contemptuous  nature  of  her  in- 
sults !  " 

He  struggled  to  get  free  from  her  arms  ; 
they  had  found  their  way  round  his  neck, 
and  her  head  was  on  his  bosom.  But  she 
held  him  too  tightly.  He  was  unfair  ;  she 
knew  it ;  not  all  the  wrong  was  on  her  side. 

"  You  think  nothing  of  me,  Dick  !  "  Her 
sobbing  expostulation  :  "  You  ignore  the 
things  he  has  done  ;  the  way  he  has  behaved 
to  me  !  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Dick  grimly.  "  Perhaps 
it's  just  as  well  I  do.  Gracie  tells  me  that  in 
the  dead  of  night  he  came,  and  sat  up,  and 
nursed  her  back  to  life  !  That's  one  of  the 
things  he  did  for  you  and  the  child  you 
profess  to  love  so  much  !  He's  good  at  nurs- 
ing, is  Prince  Charlie,  poor  old  chap  ! — I  have 
had  some.  You  have  had  some.  But  it 
seems  to  have  struck  us  in  different  lights ; 
to  have  inspired  different  feelings.  Person- 
ally, I'd  lay  down  my  life  for  him !  The 
grandest  fellow  I  ever  met ;  God  bless  him  !  '] 

"  Dick  !     Dick  !     Dick  !  " 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  ;  the 
tears  were  streaming  through  her  fingers. 
He  went  on  pitilessly ;  his  blood  was  too 
hot  now  for  softness. 

"  You  don't  see  anything  to  be  grateful 
for  in  what  he  did  for  you.  On  the  contrary, 


276  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

his  kindly  affection  for  Gracie  is  a  cause  of 
complaint !  You  coolly  tell  me  I  don't  know 
the  things  he  has  done,  and  how  he  has  be- 
haved to  you  !  '  Prince  Charlie  ' — yes. 
Gracie  was  right  in  naming  him  so.  He  is  a 
prince  ;  a  Real  Prince.  The  child  has  more 
gratitude  in  her  little  finger  than  you— 

She  stopped  him.  Would  not  let  him 
continue.  Placed  a  hand  over  his  mouth  as 
she  cried: 

"  Dick,  you  are  breaking  my  heart !  " 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

RESUMPTION  OF  DICK'S   GOOD   TEMPER 

\  LTHOUGH  she  had  got  her  arms  round 
jtV.  him  again,  Mabel  could  not  stop  Dick's 
voice.  He  had  something  to  say  and  was 
determined  to  say  it ;  felt  wound  up  to  go. 

"  Breaking  your  heart !  "  he  commented 
contemptuously.  "  You  have  already  broken 
his ;  but  you  will  have  Percy  to  mend 
yours." 

"  Percy  !  How  dare  you  suggest  such  a 
thing  !  " 

He  looked  at  her  astonished ;  was  startled 
into  absolute  amazement  at  the  indignation 
in  her  voice  as  she  broke  away  from  him. 

"  Dare  !     Well " 

"  Percy  !  "  She  repeated  the  name  scorn- 
fully. "  You  know  I  hate,  detest,  despise, 
loathe  him." 

Her  face  was  so  very  expressive  just  then 
that  there  could  be  no  doubt  she  was  saying 
what  she  meant.  Dick  was  quick  to  realize 


278  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

that.  Was  so  astonished  at  the  turn  matters 
had  taken  that  he  could  only  ejaculate : 

"  Eh  !  " 

A  small  word,  but  all  he  felt  capable  of 
shaping  just  then  ;  was  his  way  of  expressing 
the  unutterable  mystification  and  astonish- 
ment which  had  gripped  hold  of  him. 

"  You  know  it,  Dick  !  "  Boot  on  floor  : 
tattoo  resumed.  "  Don't  stand  there  with 
that  idiotic  vacant  look  on  your  face,  as  if 
you  were  surprised  to  hear  it." 

Surprised  !  It  was  a  feeble  description ; 
idiotic  was  distinctly  better.  He  stood  as 
one  paralysed,  listening  whilst  she  excitedly 
continued : 

"  I  have  told  you  so  dozens,  hundreds, 
thousands,  millions  of  times  !  " 

Trust  a  woman  if  she  picks  up  figures  to 
shed  them  with  a  lavish  hand  !  The  blank 
look  on  Dick's  face  intensified.  He  shook  his 
head  in  utter  hopelessness  ;  the  mystery  was 
too  much  for  him.  He  was  dealing  with  a 
woman,  and — and — well,  he  was  only  an 
average  specimen  of  a  man  after  all ! 

"  Do  I  sleep  ?  "  He  found  voice  at  last ; 
quoted :  "  Do  I  dream  ?  Or  are  visions 
about  ?  " 

"  I  felt  mad  when  I  got  the  letter  to  say  you 
insisted  on  the  Chantrelles  coming  here  for 
Christmas.  But  I  didn't  like  to  disappoint 


DICK'S    GOOD    TEMPER  279 

you,  Dick,  the  moment  of  your  home-coming, 
too." 

"  I  insisted  ?  "  He  was  all  eagerness  as  he 
blurted  out  the  question.  "  Who  says  I 
insisted  ?  " 

"  Amy  in  her  letter  said  so " 

"  The  awful  liar  !  " 

"  Nice  way  to  talk  of  a  lady  !  " 

"  Lady  be — I  mean  she's  not  a  lady  if  she 
set  down  such  a  thing  in  black  and  white.  She 
so  badgered  me  on  the  boat  with  hints  for  an 
invitation,  that  at  last,  in  sheer  desperation, 
I  did  ask  them  to  come." 

"  Of  course  you  did  !  And  I  wish  they 
were  a  hundred  thousand  miles  away  !  " 

The  blank  look  of  astonishment  crept  on  to 
his  face  again  as  he  stuttered : 

"  You— wish— they " 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes." 

"  Well,  I'm Do — you — mean — to — 

tell — me  that  you  weren't  glad  to  see  them  ? 
When  during  the  whole  of  the  first  dinner  you 
did  nothing  but  simper  and  make  eyes  and 
laugh  with  Percy,  till  the  veriest  fool  in 
Christendom  could  have  seen  you  were  head 
over  ears  in  love  with  him  ?  " 

"  I  hate  him !  I  hate  him !  I  Hate 
Him !  " 

His  sister's  vehemence  partly  cleared  the 
clouds  away.  Acted  as  a  douche  on  his  bad 


280  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

temper,  as  a  tonic  to  his  good  one  ;  coolly  he 
said : 

"  My  dear  girl,  take  my  advice ';  you'd 
better  send  for  the  quack !  Your  mind's 
unhinged  ;  that's  what's  the  matter  with  you. 
You're  fairly  going  dotty  !  If  you  hate  him, 
what  the  dev —  deuce  did  you  want  to  pretend 
to  make  love  to  him  for  ?  " 

"I  d — did  it"— she  was  sobbing  in  her 
handkerchief  now  ;  all  the  stiffening  gone 
from  her  back  —  "to  annoy  P  —  Prince 
Ch—Ch— Charlie." 

What  there  was  left  of  the  look  of  astonish- 
ment quite  left  his  face.  The  scales  fell ;  his 
eyes  were  fully  opened.  Thrusting  his  hands 
into  his  pockets  he  said  vigorously,  character- 
istically : 

"  Well— I'm— damned  !" 

Then  hope  sprang  into  his  eyes  ;  filled  his 
bosom.  There  was  a  tangle  somewhere,  but 
he  was  getting  his  fingers  on  the  ends  :  he 
needed  to  unravel  it.  Walking  over  to,  he  sat 
beside  his  sister,  who  was  sobbing  on  the  sofa. 

"  Just  hold  up  the  water  supply,  old  girl." 
He  spoke  with  all  a  brother's  brutality. 
"  Turn  off  the  tap,  and  talk  coherently,  if  it 
isn't  too  great  a  tax.  I've  only  got  a  man's 
brain,  so  you  might  make  an  effort  and  leave 
off  conundruming.  The  way  you  women 
twist  up  things — well,  there  !  Yooi  seem  to 


DICK'S   GOOD    TEMPER  281 

take  a  positive  delight  in  making  troubles  for 
yourselves  and  everybody  else ;  put  up 
obstacles  and  cry  because  you  can't  get  over 
them.  Why  did  you  want  to  annoy  Masters  ?  " 

"  He  insul — sul — sul — ted  me  so." 

Once  more  a  look  of  amazement  crept  on 
Dick's  face  as  he  repeated : 

"  He — insulted — you — so  ?  " 

The  idea  of  Prince  Charlie's  insulting  a 
woman  was — well,  he  almost  laughed  as  he 
said  : 

"  For  many  weeks  past  he  had  not  seen 
you  ;  for  many  weeks  past  I  have  been  his 
close  companion.  During  all  that  time  he  has 
spoken  of  you  to  me  as  if  you  were  a  goddess, 
instead  of  being  a  little  devil  with  a  temper 
vile  enough  to  provoke  a  saint.  He  insult 
you  !  " 

Then  he  did  laugh — heartily.  Began  to 
see  that  there  was  a  path  out  of  the  d  mculty 
• — it  only  needed  finding.  Let  him  find  it — 
that  was  all ! 

"  He  c — c — could  not  have  thought  m — 
m — much  of  me,  or  he  would  not  have 
f — f — flirted  with  every  girl  on  board." 

"Flirted!  Prince  Ch "  His  laugh 

broke  out  again ;  into  a  roar  this  time.  "  Why, 
he  was  the  most  taciturn  beggar  on  the  boat, 
to  everyone  but  me  !  Flirt !  That's  good. 
Beyond  a  '  Good  morning/  I  never  heard  him 


282  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

address  a  woman.  If  one  at  table  asked  him 
for  the  water-bottle,  he  acted  as  if  she  had 
done  him  a  deadly  wrong  in  speaking  to  him  ! 
He  was  not  even  on  pass-the-salt-and-pepper 
terms  with  a  lady  on  board.  Flirt !  This  is 
really  too  rich  !  " 

The  laughter  rang  out  again.  His  anger 
was  all  gone ;  his  face  was  all  sunshine. 
There  was  a  comedy  side  to  the  affair,  after 
all !  That  was  the  side  of  things  Dick  was 
sure  to  reach  sooner  or  later ;  his  nature 
tended  that  way.  It  served  to  detect  the 
merest  trace  of  humour  in  things. 

"  Dick  !  " 

A  misgiving  was  seizing  her.  She  was 
putting  two  and  two  together  and  making  a 
decidedly  unpleasant  four  of  it ;  said : 

"  Isn't  it  true  that  he  made  violent  love  to 
Amy  directly  she  came  on  board  ?  " 

1 '  To  Amy  !  To  Amy  !  If  there  was  one 
woman  he  avoided — positively  avoided — 
more  than  another,  it  was  Amy.  He  seemed 
to  take  a  dislike  to  her  directly  she  was 
introduced ;  and  in  justice  to  her,  I  am  bound 
to  say  that  she  reciprocated.  From  her  point 
of  view,  I  suppose  that  was  showing  proper 
feeling  She  was  for  ever  trying  to  poison 
my  mind  against  him.  But  I  knew  him,  and 
I  knew  her.  She  preached  to  the  winds  ! " 

Dick  had  to  pause.     Having  got  hold  of 


DICK'S   GOOD    TEMPER  283 

the  offending  root,  his  indignation  was  rising, 
getting  the  better  of  him. 

"  Make  love  to  her  !  "  he  repeated.  "  Good 
Heavens !  Beyond  ( Good  morning '  and 
'  Good  night '  I  don't  suppose  he  spoke  a 
hundred  words  to  her  on  the  whole  voyage 
home." 

"  Then — I — I — have  been  made  a  fool " 

"  Rather  an  easy  task,  I  should  imagine," 
interjected  Dick,  with  truly  brotherly  con- 
tempt. "  But  who  is  responsible  for  the  job  ? 
Whoever  it  was,  couldn't  have  been  killed 
with  the  hard  work  !  '! 

"  Wait." 

She  ran  out  of  the  room  to  her  bedroom. 
Quickly  opening  a  drawer,  made  a  moment's 
search  therein.  Then  returned  with  a  letter 
in  her  hand — triumphant. 

"It  is  not  altogether  correct  form  for  a 
woman  to  show  a  man  another  woman's 
letter,  but  read  that." 

Dick  sat  down  at  the  table  and  she  smoothed 
the  document  out  before  him  with  a  degree  of 
gusto.  It  was  her  warrant  of  justification  ; 
the  only  title-deed  she  possessed  to  the  beha- 
viour of  which  she  had  been  guilty. 

He  read  it.  His  face  became  worth  watch- 
ing as  he  did  so.  Amusement,  loathing, 
astonishment,  all  held  sway  on  it  at  odd  times. 
Despite  his  disgust  though,  there  was  big  hope 


284  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

in  the  sediment.  As  he  concluded  he  whistled 
his  favourite  "Rule  Britannia. " 

"  Well  ?  " 

She  had  been  eagerly  watching  him.  Read 
the  answer  in  his  face,  but  woman-like  asked 
what  she  already  knew  : 

"  Isn't  it  true  ?  " 

"  True  !  "  He  tossed  the  letter  back  to 
her  as  he  answered.  "  From  beginning  to 
end  it  is  a  tissue  of  deliberate  lies." 

She  heard  rapturously.  The  moral  worth 
of  her  friend  Amy  and  the  ultimate  destina- 
tion of  Amy's  soul,  were  matters  for  future 
commiseration.  They  sank  into  insignificance 
before  the  resuscitation  of  her  faith  in  Masters. 
That  mighty  edifice  had  been  obscured  by 
clouds  ;  the  clouds  were  clearing  and  the 
proud  summit  was  peeping  through. 

So  glad  was  she,  that  she  positively  revelled 
in  the  admission  of  her  own  gullibility ;  said 
joyously : 

"  Lies  !     And  I  believed  them  !  " 

"  That  doesn't  astonish  me  !  I  used  to 
think  you  were  a  sensible  girl,  but  now — well, 
there  !  But  there's  more  than  mere  lies  in 
that  letter." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  You  can't  see  it  ?  And  you  think  your- 
self cute  !  Can't  you  read  between  the  lines  ?  " 

"  What  ?  " 


DICK'S   GOOD    TEMPER  285 

"  I  told  Amy  of  Prince  Charlie's  love  for 
you  ;  that  started  the  ball.  What  does  she 
set  herself  to  do  ?  Poison  your  mind  against 
him.  Why  ?  Note  the  lie  about  Percy's 

turning  white  when Good  Lord,  you  can 

see  through  it  now,  can't  you  ?  You  don't 
want  spectacles  for  that  ?  Your  own  common 
sense  will  tell  you — though  you  cenainly  don't 
seem  to  have  a  large  supply  on  hand." 

"  I — she  wanted  me — wanted  her  brother 
to- 

"  That's  it !  You've  got  the  hammer  on 
the  nail  head  at  last  !  That  accounts  for  her 
questioning  me  as  to  how  you  were  left  under 
the  will ;  whether  the  money  was  settled  on 
you  or  not." 

"  What  a  perfect  pair  of  beasts  !  " 

"  Hear,  hear  I  " 

"  And  you  invited  them  here  !  How  could 
you  ?  They  are  not  fit  people  to  have  in  the 
house  !  " 

"  I  like  that !  Upon  my  word  !  See  how 
gone  you  were  on  Percy  at  din- 


"  Dick  !     If  you  ever  dare  to  say — 
Well,  I  must  see  about  packing  up- 


"  Packing  up  !     Don't  let  me   think  you 

quite  a  complete  idiot,  Dick  !  " 

"  The  train  goes  at  three-thir " 

"  Dick  !  "     She  stamped  her  foot  in  anger. 

"  Why  do  you  want  to  make  it  worse  for  me 


286  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

than  it  need  be  by  your  stupidity.    You 
perfect  horror,  you  ! >J 

"  Stupidity  runs  in  the  family,  I  suppose. 
You  have  been  mighty  wise,  haven't  you  ? 
Um — you  don't  want  me  to  go,  then  ?  " 

"  And  leave  me  in  this  hopeless  muddle 
alone  ?  It  wouldn't  be  commonly  human — 
to  say  nothing  of  brotherly  !  " 

'  Oh,  well."  He  affected  a  resigned  air  to 
hide  his  smiles.  "  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  stop 
if  you  put  it  like  that.  I'll  just  walk  up  to 
Prince  Charlie's  place  and  tell  him  I  shan't  be 
able  to  go  up  with  him." 

"  To — go — up — with — him  ?  " 

Dismay  caused  her  to  voice  the  question  in 
instalments.  Dick  stooped,  pretended  to  tie 
up  his  shoe-lace,  some  act  was  necessary  to 
hide  from  her  the  amused  look  in  his  eyes. 

"  Yes.  I'd  like  to  say  good-bye  to  the  dear 
old  chap.  He'll  probably  go  abroad  and  stop 
there.  Maybe  I  shall  never  see  him  again." 

"  Abroad  !     Never — see " 

Then  she  stopped  dead  in  the  middle  of 
what  she  was  saying  ;  stood  as  one  dumb- 
founded. Dick's  eyes  in  his  averted  head 
were  twinkling  and  his  mouth  twitching.  She 
certainly  had  some  ground  for  the  opinion  she 
expressed  of  him. 

He  was  a  brute  of  a  brother. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII 

A   TANGLED   TRINITY 

AN  observer  might  have  imagined  Dick 
possessed  of  a  just  grievance  against  his 
tailor  ;  it  took  him  such  a  while  to  get  into 
his  coat.  He  was  doing  so  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  "  Rule,  Britannia/'  pursed-up  lips 
fashioning  it.  The  difficulty  with  his  coat 
was  one  of  his  own  creation  ;  he  was  tho- 
roughly enjoying  the  situation  and  prolonging 
it  as  long  as  possible.  The  whistling  served 
as  a  sort  of  slow  music  to  his  little  drama. 

There  was  not  even  a  whisper  of  Masters* 
leaving  England.  Indeed,  it  was  pretty 
certain  that  had  he  been  going  abroad,  Dick 
would  have  been  on  hand  as  his  travelling 
companion.  He  was,  as  he  termed  it,  rub- 
bing it  in.  Brothers  are  awful  brutes  at 
times. 

"  Dick  !     Dear  Dick  !  " 

She  had  come  to  him  affectionately ;  had 
put  her  arms  round  his  neck. 


187 


288  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  Hold  on  there  !  Don't  go  slobbering  on 
my  front  again  ;  it  is  all  limp  and  wet  now. 
I  don't  want  to  get  inflammation  of  the  lungs 
through  wearing  a  damp  shirt !  You  are  too 
liberal  with  your  grief,  Sis  ;  keep  some  of  it 
for  your  handkerchief." 

"I'm  not  crying.  Dick — Dick — dear,  dear 
old  Dick."  She  was  whispering  in  his  ear  in 
an  artful  way  that  she  had  never  known 
him  able  to  resist.  "  You  know  you  would 
not  like  to  make  me  miserable — your  own 
loving  sister- 
He  was  grinning  from  ear  to  ear.  The 
humour  of  the  situation  appealed  to  him  as 
he  interrupted : 

"  None  of  your  blarney;  none  of  your  soft 
sawder  !  What's  the  meaning  of  this  sudden 
overflowing,  spring-up-in-a-moment  affection  ? 
I  was  an  idiot,  fool,  stupid,  a  few  minutes 
ago." 

"  Dear  Dick  !  " 

"  Yes,  that's  all  very  well.  But  what  is  it  ? 
This  sudden  discovery  of  my  value  means  you 
want  something." 

She  put  her  mouth  close  to  his  ear  and 
whispered  again.  A  very  low  whisper  ;  he 
only  just  caught  it : 

"  Don't  let  him  go,  Dick." 

"  Let  who  go  ?  " 

She  knew  that  to  be  an  evasion ;   that  he 


A    TANGLED    TRINITY  289 

was  wilfully  misunderstanding  her.  Just 
shook  him  and  whispered  earnestly : 

"  Please  !  " 

Dick  was  magnanimous  ;  he  could  afford 
to  be.  His  deep-laid  scheme  had  proved 
successful. 

"  Well,  I'll  see  what  I  can  do.  But  what 
are  you  going  to  do  about  the  Chan- 
trelles  ?  " 

A  change  came  over  her  face  ;  every  scrap 
of  softness  seemed  to  fade  out  of  it.  In  a 
voice  full  of  determination  she  said : 

"  The  Chantrelles  will  leave  here  before  the 
day  is  over  !  " 

"  Rule,  Britannia  "  once  more  thrilled  the 
air  as  the  whistler  caught  his  sister  in  his 
arms. 

"  You're  a  brick,  old  girl."  He  kissed  her. 
"  Things  will  pan  out  all  right  after  all.  Now, 
shall  I  stay  and  bear  a  hand,  or  would  you 
rather  handle  the  precious  couple  all  by 
yourself  ?  " 

There  was  a  steely  glitter  in  her  eye — it 
boded  ill  for  the  absent  ones — as  she  answered 
vindictively  : 

"  I  think  I  can  manage  alone  !  " 

"  I  think  you  can,  old  girl !  .  .  .  Do  you 
know,"  he  added  with  mock  severity,  "  when 
you  look  a  little  demon  like  that,  I  don't 
somehow  fancy  trusting  my  friend  into  your 


290  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

keeping.  One  good  turn ;  you  know  the 

rest.  I  believe  I  should  be  carrying  that  out 
by  preventing  his  marrying  you." 

"  He  hasn't  asked  me  yet !  " 

She  spoke  saucily  with  sparkling  eyes  ;  yet 
with  a  rosy  blush  on  her  face. 

"  That's  true  ;  perhaps  he  won't !  There's 
hope  for  the  poor  beggar  after  all !  He  came 
all  the  way  from  the  Mediterranean  framing 
words  how  he  should  ask  you  to  marry  him, 
and  he  had  a  narrow  escape  on  the  dinner 
party  night.  Perhaps  you  killed  him  then 
by  your  nice  behaviour ;  killed  any  desire  he 
might  have  had  to  marry  you."  Then  he 
added  maliciously:  "Let's  hope  so,  for  his 
sake." 

"  Dick  !     You  are  a  perfect  horror  !  " 

"  It  was  '  Dear  Dick '  a  minute  ago  !  But 
there — you're  as  uncertain  as  the  weather." 

The  shot  went  home  ;  told  in  the  flushed, 
shamefaced  look  ;  Dick  inquired  : 

"  What  are  you  going  to  say  to  the  Chan- 
trelles  ?  " 

"  That  is  my  business.  They  will  travel 
up  by  the  afternoon  train.  Your  business  is 
to  go  to  Prince  Charlie,  and  see  that  he  comes 
here  to-night  to  dinner." 

He  sobered  down  in  a  moment  at  that ; 
answered  seriously : 

"  No,  old  girl,  that   is   out  of   the   ques- 


A    TANGLED   TRINITY  291 

tion.  Nothing  I  could  say  would  induce 
him  to  that.  He  simply  hates  the  Chan- 
trelles." 

"  I  have  told  you — they  won't  be  here." 

"  Even  the  knowledge  of  their  absence 
wouldn't  make  him  come  to  your  house,  after 
the  way  in  which  you  behaved  to  him  last 
time." 

"  All  the  same,"  she  said  defiantly,  "  a 
place  shall  be  set  for  him  at  table." 

"  Look  here,  old  girl,  I'm  willing  to  help 
you,  but  don't  make  a  pocket  idiot  of  yourself. 
I  tell  you  nothing  I  could  say  would  induce 
him  to " 

"  Well,  you  can  get  him  to  go  for  a  walk,  I 
suppose,  can't  you  ?  " 

'  You  know  we  always  go  for  a  walk  late 
every  afternoon — weather  permitting  or 
otherwise." 

"  Very  well ;  this  afternoon  walk  east- 
wards. You  know  the  seat  at  the  end  of  the 
Parade  ?  " 

"  You  mean,  that  one  by  the  wall,  which 
Gracie  calls  Our  Seat  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Make  your  way  there ;  walk  to 
that,  sit  down  and  wait — till  I  come." 

It  dawned  on  him  then :  her  intent. 
Admiration  of  her  diplomacy  found  vent  in 
the  strains  of  "  Rule,  Britannia." 

"  Don't  say  anything,  Dick.    Promise  me 


292  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

that.    Not  a  word  to  Prince  Charlie  about — 
about — anything." 

"  But  when  you  turn  up  at  the  seat,  what 
am  I  to  do  ?  I  suppose  it  will  be  a  case  of 
two's  company,  three's  none  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  can  go  and  pick  shells  and  sea- 
iweed  on  the  beach  !  " 

"  What !  In  the  dark  ?  Is  thy  brother  a  dog 
that  he  should  do  these  things  ?  I'll  find  my 
way  back  by  myself.  You  think  he'll  see 
you  home  ?  " 

"  You  can  rely  on  it  he  will." 

Mrs.  Seton-Carr  had  confidence  in  herself. 
Perhaps  it  was  as  well ;  few  things  are  won 
without  that. 

"  All  right.  We  shall  be  there  about  five 
o'clock." 

"  So  shall  I." 

"  Right  .  .  .  There  are  the  Chantrelles 
coming  up  the  road  ;  I'll  clear  out  the  back 
way.  If  they  are  going,  I'd  rather  be  spared 
saying  farewells.  I  might  introduce  some 
choice  expressions  of  my  opinion  of  them." 

"  Leave  that  to  me  !  " 

Mabel  spoke  with  bitter  sweetness.  One 
glance  at  her  face  convinced  Dick  that  he 
could  do  so  with  safety. 

"  Right !  " 

He  disappeared  through  the  back  as  the 
Chantrelles  entered  by  the  front  door.  Mrs. 


A    TANGLED   TRINITY  293 

Seton-Carr  was  waiting  for  them.  She  smiled 
pleasantly,  iced  pleasantry,  and  invited  them 
into  the  drawing-room.  Seated,  she  faced 
them.  There,  wasted  no  time  in  prelimin- 
aries ;  struck  out : 

'  There  is  something  I  want  to  clear  up, 
Mr.  Chantrelle." 

She  fixed  that  gentleman  with  her  eyes. 
On  her  face  was  a  pleasant  smile  ;  it  never 
faded  once  during  the  interview. 

"  Yes  ?  " 

"  About  Mr.  Masters,"  she  continued. 
"  There  has  been  something  unpleasant — so 
far  as  he  is  concerned — said  of  the  voyage 
home  you  all  made  from  the  Mediterranean. 
Did  you  ever  see  him  attempt  to  make  love 
to  your  sister  ?  " 

"  Great  Scott !  No.  He  seemed  to  like  her 
about  as  little  as  Amy  liked  him." 

From  the  corner  of  her  eye,  Mrs.  Seton-Carr 
could  see  that  her  dear  friend  Amy  had  grown 
very  white — Amy  had  a  quicker  brain  than 
had  her  brother — but  she  never  lost  her  hold 
on  Percy's  face  ;  went  on : 

"  Did  he  bear  the  reputation  of  a  lady- 
killer  ?  Of  making  love  to  every  woman  on 
board  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Carr !  "  Percy  laughed 
heartily  as  he  replied,  "  I  never  saw  him  talk 
to  a  woman !  He  had  the  reputation  on 


294  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

board  of  being  a  woman-hater.  He  was  a 
perfect  bear !  " 

Amy  glanced  at  her  brother  reproachfully, 
meaningly — too  late.  Besides,  he  was  looking 
at  his  hostess  and  not  at  her  ;  her  telegraphic 
communication  was  without  effect.  It  was  a 
pity,  a  thousand  pities,  from  Amy's  point  of 
view.  She  had  to  sit  quiet  and  listen. 

'  Thanks  so  much,"  Mrs.  Seton-Carr  was 
saying  sweetly.  "  You  see,  I  was  told  all  that, 
and  it  was  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  be  told. 
You  must  understand  that  I  am  engaged  to 
be  married  to  Mr.  Masters  shortly — but  I 
think  you  knew  that  ?  " 

Percy's  face  fell ;  all  the  merriment  dropped 
out  of  it.  A  moment's  silence  ensued  ;  not 
what  could  fairly  be  labelled  a  dull  moment. 
Then  Percy  broke  it ;  said  slowly : 

"  No  ;  I  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  such 
a  thing." 

"  Is  that  possible  ?  Surely  your  sister  told 
you  !  She  says  in  this  letter  that  when  you 
heard  of  my  forthcoming  marriage  to  Mr. 
Masters  you  grew  white.  Although  why," 
•she  laughed,  "  you  should  grow  white,  I 
cannot  conceive.  Our  pleasant  intercourse 
has  always  been  quite  platonic,  hasn't  it  ? 
That  was  its  charm ;  one  has  so  few  friends. 
You  know  that  ?  " 

"  I — yes.     Now  I  know  it." 


A    TANGLED    TRINITY  295 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  it,  Mr.  Chantrelle,  to 
you  ;  you  always  have  behaved  as  a  gentleman 
to  me  ;  but  this  letter,"  she  held  it  out  to  him, 
"  written  by  your  sister  whilst  on  the  boat,  is 
a  tissue  of  lies  from  beginning  to  end.  The 
work  of  a  woman  absolutely  unfitted — in  my 
opinion — for  decent  society  ! " 

Brother  and  sister  were  on  their  feet  in  a 
moment.  The  atmosphere  seemed  red-hot 
to  them.  They  had  had  unpleasant  moments 
in  their  somewhat  adventurous  career,  but 
this  was  the  worst.  Their  hostess's  words 
were  as  the  lashes  of  a  whip. 

Chantrelle  muttered  something  about 
breaking  the  laws  of  hospitality ;  a  weak 
effort  to  stand  up  for  his  sister.  It  failed 
half-way.  Then  he  abandoned  her  to  her 
fate. 

'  Take  me  away,  Percy,"  his  sister  gasped. 
"  I  will  not  stay  to  be  further  insulted." 

"  Miss  Chantrelle  has  forestalled  me."  Mrs. 
Seton-Carr  still  spoke  quietly,  still  retained 
her  seat.  '  That  is  precisely  what  I  was 
about  to  ask  you  to  do,  Mr.  Chantrelle.  One 
•can  lock  up  from  a  thief,  but  a  liar — a 
deliberate,  scheming,  unscrupulous  liar — there 
is  no  guarding  against.  Your  sister,  by  her 
trickery,  came  near  separating  me  from  the 
man  who  loves  me,  the  man  I  love.  I  should 
not  forgive  it  in  fifty  lifetimes." 


296  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Miss  Chantrelle  made  an  effort  to  speak. 
Her  lips  moved,  but  for  once  in  her  life  she 
was  unable  to  fashion  words  She  was  a 
woman  who  trusted  to  a  well-oiled  tongue 
for  squeezing  out  of  the  tightest  places.  It 
failed  her  now  ;  the  effort  ended  in  a  gasp. 

"  Go  and  pack  your  things,  Amy." 

Her  brother  spoke  sternly.  The  white- 
faced  woman  almost  staggered  out  of  the 
room  without  a  word.  She  was  terribly 
upset ;  none  of  us  like  to  be  found  out  in  our 
little  lapses. 

"  Read  the  letter,  Mr.  Chantrelle  ;  I  request 
you  to.  It  will  convince  you  that  I  am  not 
more  than  necessarily  bitter " 

"  There  is  no  need.  Your  word  is  suffi- 
cient." 

Mr.  Chantrelle  bowed  ;  had  changed  his 
tactics  and  was  making  the  best  of  his  position. 
His  sister  had  led  him  into  this  ;  he  would 
stand  by  her  up  to  a  point,  but  at  the  same 
time  he  would  do  what  he  could  to  save  his 
own  skin.  There  was  no  sense  in  needless 
sacrifice. 

"  I  know  you  well  enough,  know  you  could 
only  behave  as  you  are  doing  with  good 
reason,"  he  continued.  "  I  am  heartily  sorry. 
Amy  is  my  sister  ;  I  am  bound  to  remember 
that  whatever  she  has  done."  He  held  out  his 
hand.  "  Good-bye.  I  can  only  ask  you  to 


A    TANGLED    TRINITY  297 

acquit  me  personally  of  any — but  there ; 
explanations  are  perhaps  better  left  alone. 
Good-bye — it  will  be  well  for  us  not  to  meet 
again." 

A  note  of  feeling  vibrated  in  his  voice.  A 
mere  listener  to  the  actual  words  would  have 
detected  no  false  ring  in  them.  Would, 
perhaps,  have  admired  him  for  the  staunch- 
ness he  exhibited  towards  his  misguided 
sister. 

But  his  hostess  stood  face  to  face  with  him, 
and  she  saw  that  in  his  eye — lack  of  sincerity — • 
which  discounted  the  ingenuousness  of  his 
speech.  Still  Mrs.  Seton-Carr  agreed  with 
it — in  substance. 

"  Good-bye.  Yes,  it  is  certainly  better 
so.  .  .  My  maid  shall  go  across  to  the 
station  for  a  porter  and  truck.  They  will  be 
here  by  the  time  you  have  packed." 

They  were.  The  Chantrelles  left.  Jour- 
neyed to  London  by  the  train  Dick  had 
mentioned ;  the  most  crestfallen  couple 
travelling  in  it. 

It  was  the  last  of  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

OUR   SEAT 

THE  Chantrelles  'gone,  with  the  whistle 
of  their  departing  train  shrilling  in  her 
ears,  Mabel  sighed  contentedly,  gathered 
all  there  was  of  her  together  and  spent  a  full 
two  minutes  in  inspecting  its  reflection  in 
the  mirror. 

The  sound  of  the  closing  of  the  door  on 
them  as  they  left  had  been  sweet  music  in 
her  ears.  The  warning  shriek  of  the  engine 
as  it  started  out  of  the  station,  drawing  them 
every  moment  further  and  further  away  from 
her,  was  sweeter  still. 

Then  she  entered  into  consultation  with 
her  cook ;  set  about  ordering  the  most 
appetising  little  dinner  she  could  devise. 
There  was  entailed  an  expenditure  of  anxious 
thought ;  the  function  was  an  important  one. 
Mrs.  Seton-Carr  was  not  a  woman  to  despise 
details  of  that  kind. 

She  had  laughed  once  at  a  cynic's  belief 


OUR   SEAT  299 

that,  if  you  cannot  make  sure  of  retaining 
a  man's  love,  you  can,  by  securing  the  ser- 
vices of  a  good  cook,  make  sure  of  his  respect. 
Despite  her  laughter  she  was  not  without 
faith  in  the  proverb  that  the  road  to  a  man's 
heart  lies  through  his  stomach. 

'  The  last  time  Prince  Charlie  had  dined  at 
Ivy  Cottage  he  had  not  enjoyed  himself ; 
she  remembered  why  with  a  little  flush  of 
shame.  There  was  determination  that  he 
should  do  so  this  time.  And  she  rather 
thought  she  would  enjoy  herself  too  ;  any- 
way, it  would  not  be  her  fault  if  they  failed 
to  do  so. 

The  shades  of  evening  began  their  descent 
soon  after  half-past  four  o'clock.  It  was 
not  too  dark  then  for  her  to  see  her  brother 
and  Prince  Charlie  go  by  on  the  Parade — 
eastwards.  The  author's  broad,  square 
shoulders  were  unmistakable.  She  herself 
was  hidden  by  the  bedroom  curtain  she  was 
behind. 

They   had   gone   in   the    direction   of   the 

•  seat.  A  smile  found  place  on  her  face  ;  so 
far  all  was  well.  Then  she  tried  on  two  or 
three  hats.  Was  anxious  to  look  her  best ; 
she  knew  that  she  could  talk  so  much  better 
when  sure  of  her  appearance.  Sadness  tinged 
her  reflection  ;  the  beauty  of  her  millinery 
would  be  wasted  in  the  darkness. 


300  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

Then,  with  a  sigh — she  was  a  woman,  with 
all  a  woman's  belief  in  millinery's  power — 
she  hoped  that  not  much  talking  would  be 
needed.  Silence  and  a  good  profile  were 
more  reliable.  She  looked  at  the  clock  :  the 
minutes  dragged  slowly. 

At  a  quarter  to  five  she  left  the  cottage. 
Before  the  hour  reached  the  end  of  the  Parade. 
An  east  wind  was  blowing.  As  she  neared 
the  seat  the  odour  of  cigars  came  to  her,  borne 
on  the  wind  from  which  the  smokers  were 
sheltered.  Then  she  advanced. 

"  Hullo,  Sis  !  " 

Dick  started  to  his  feet  as  if  she  were  an 
apparition,  spoke  in  an  exaggerated  tone  of 
surprise  ;  continuing  : 

"  Who  on  earth  would  have  thought  of 
seeing  you  here  ?  " 

She  could  have  soundly  boxed  his  ears  for 
him — well-meaning  Dick — for  so  overdoing  it. 
He  could  not  have  exhibited  more  surprise 
had  he  thought  her  dropped  from  the  clouds. 
Brothers  really  are  terribly  trying  at  times. 

Perhaps  it  was  as  well  for  him  that  he 
slowly  moved  away.  Apparently  he  evinced 
a  judicious,  if  sudden,  interest  in  moonlight 
conchology.  Anyway,  he  devoted  his  atten- 
tion to  some  of  the  common  objects  of  the 
sea-shore. 

That  Dick  did  move  off  was  the  essential 


OUR   SEAT  301 

point.  She  saw,  with  relief,  that  he  had  sense 
enough  for  that.  The  sound  of  the  whistling 
of  "  Rule  Britannia"  gradually  died  away  in 
the  distance. 

Masters  had  risen  to  his  feet  the  moment 
his  eyes  fell  on  her.  Stood  there  doubtful 
what  he  should  do.  She  did  not  leave  him  in 
doubt  long ;  advanced  towards  him,  and 
stretching  out  her  hand,  said  : 

"  Prince  Charlie,  I  am — oh,  I  am  so  sorry  ! 
Please  forgive  me  !  " 

It  was  a  lame  speech.  She  was  surprised 
at,  ashamed  of,  herself.  She  had  rehearsed 
what  she  had  intended  saying  all  the  after- 
noon. Now  it  came  to  the  point  she  could 
not  remember  a  word. 

Whatever  she  might  think  of  her  own  words 
they  were  an  immense  surprise  to  Masters. 
He  took  her  extended  hand,  common  courtesy 
compelled  him  to  that,  and  said  gently: 

"  Forgive  ?  You  are  surely — oh,  I  have 
nothing  to  forgive  !  " 

"  You  have  !  " 

She  insisted  with  a  charming  insistence. 
Somehow  her  eyes  got  to  need  mopping  with 
her  handkerchief — a  lace  handkerchief  with  a 
singularly  pretty  border,  by  the  way. 

"I  have  b-behaved  "  — she  mopped  on — 
"  like  a  wicked  wretch  t-to  you." 

Of  course,  with  a  man  of  Masters'  tempera- 


302  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

ment  it  was  most  effective  ;  she  was  playing 
an  ideal  game.  Some  men  are  used  to  tears  ; 
come  to  look  upon  them  as  an  unavoidable 
factor  in  their  dealings  with  women.  The 
author  had  not  reached  that  stage  :  probably 
never  would. 

A  woman  crying,  or  in  distress,  never  failed 
to  appeal  to  him.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Seton-Carr 
knew  that.  Women  are  very  subtle  ;  their 
intuition  is  no  mythical  possession.  Any  way, 
she  played  that  handkerchief  of  hers  for  all  it 
was  worth. 

Masters  still  stood  hesitating ;  was  genu- 
inely anxious  and  full  of  wonder  :  what  he 
ought  to  do.  Thoughts  of  eau  de  Cologne 
occurred  to  him.  He  knew  women  found 
relief  in  that  kind  of  thing  ;  but  he  bent  over 
her  and  said : 

"  I  beg  you — oh,  I  beg,  earnestly,  you  will 
not  distress  yourself." 

He  really  meant  it ;  her  distress  distressed 
him.  The  more  she  saw  that  the  more  tears 
she  shed.  Artful  little  crocodile! 

"  You  w-won't  f-f-forgive  me  !  " 

She  knew  all  the  time  that  he  would. 

"  Pray,  Mrs. — you — I — I — have  nothing  to 
forgive.  But  if  you  think  I  have,  I  forgive 
you  freely,  fully." 

The  road  was  getting  smooth,  she  thought, 
but  it  was  not  safe  to  drop  the  hand- 


OUR   SEAT  303 

kerchief  yet ;  plainly  that  was  a  strong 
weapon. 

"  You  m-m-must  think  me  such  an  awful 
b-b-brute  !  " 

Wretched  little  prevaricator !  She  knew 
quite  well  that  he  thought  nothing  of  the 
kind. 

"  Believe  me,  I  can  never  think  of  you  in 
any  way  but  the  kindliest." 

True  ;  every  word  of  it.  His  heart  was 
like  a  photographic  plate,  capable  only  of 
bearing  one  clear  picture. 

"  I  d-daresay  you  wish  me  dead,  or  at  the 
bottom  of  the  s-sea — and  I  d-deserve  it." 

Really  she  did.  It  was  most  unfair — this 
present  performance  of  hers.  It  distressed 
him  beyond  measure  ;  he  said  : 

"  I  wish  you  nothing  but  the  greatest 
happiness  it  is  possible  for  you  to  enjoy ; 
wish  it  from  my  heart." 

"  And  I — I — have  behaved  so — s-s-so  un- 
gratefully to  you." 

She  uttered  truth ;  perhaps  for  a  change. 
But  he  denied  what  she  said  ;  answered : 

"  Not  at  all !  You  behaved  rightly  ;  as 
your  heart  dictated." 

She  had  to  flare  up  at  that ;  could  not 
help  it.  As  a  matter  of  fact  all  her  actions 
had  been  in  direct  opposition  to  her  heart's 
promptings. 


304  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  I  did  nothing  of  the  sort !  My  behaviour 
was  quite  wrong  !  " 

The  handkerchief  shifted  a  little  to  enable 
her  to  look  up  at  him  out  of  the  corner  of  her 
eye,  as  she  continued: 

"  Just  the  reverse  of  the  way  my  h-h-heart 
dictated." 

His  own  heart  beat  a  little  quicker  at  that, 
in  expectation,  as  he  asked  eagerly  : 

"  When  was  that  ?  " 

"  At  that  wr  r-retched  dinner." 

He  sat  down  ;  somehow  they  both  sat— 
apparently  it  was  a  simultaneous  act.  He 
was,  however,  to  windward  of  her ;  she 
engineered  that.  The  faint  perfume  of  the 
hair  of  her  bent  head  came  to  him.  It  has 
been  already  mentioned  that  Mrs.  Seton-Carr 
devoted  attention  to  details.  No  wonder  the 
elder  Weller  warned  his  son  against  widows  ! 

"  You  have  said  either  not  enough  or  too 
much."  He  spoke  hoarsely,  in  tense  tones. 
"  Tell  me— more." 

"  You  want  to  make  it  h-h-hard  for  me  ; 
to  humble  me  m-m-more." 

She  sobbed  out  the  words,  the  while  her 
disengaged  hand,  curiously,  fell  on  his.  Na- 
turally, his  hand  closed  on  hers,  and — quite 
easily — he  frustrated  her  efforts  to  take  it 
away.  He  moved  closer  to  her. 

She  turned  the  back  of  her  head  to  him. 


OUR   SEAT  305 

Was  not  unaware  of  the  fact  that  her  hair 
grew  very  prettily  there  ;  fell  in  soft  little 
golden  curls  at  the  nape  of  her  neck.  Of 
course  the  movement  was  quite  an  uncon- 
scious one  !  Perhaps,  too,  it  was  pure  acci- 
dent that  the  moon  just  then  had  popped 
from  behind  a  cloud,  so  lighting  up  things  ; 
she  went  on  : 

"  I  t- think  you  are  very  h-hard  to  me." 

He  moved  closer  still ;  every  fibre  in  his 
being  thrilled  by  contact  with  the  woman  he 
loved.  Had  he  bent  down,  his  lips  would 
have  touched  her  head.  The  blood  was 
racing  through  his  veins  as  he  wondered — 
should  he  dare  ?  Then  he  thought  of  the 
dinner  party — remembered  Chantrelle.  The 
thought  acted  as  the  descent  of  iced  water 
might  have  done  :  she  was  another  man's 
property  !  He  took  his  hand  away. 

That  alarmed  her — dreadfully  !  She  had 
thought  all  was  going  along  so  nicely  ;  was 
actually  getting  ready  for  the  union  of  lips  ; 
the  final  drying  of  her  eyes.  What  could 
possibly  have  frozen  him  up  like  that  ? 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  "  you  should  think 
unpleasant  things  of  me.  But  is  there 
need?" 

The  coldness  of  his  tone  struck  a  horrible 
chill  to  her  heart.  But  it  was  not  a  moment 
for  despair,  rather  for  a  marshalling  of  all  her 

u 


306  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

forces.  She  redoubled  her  efforts ;  fell  on 
her  knees  by  his  side,  and  cried  : 

'  You  are  cruel !  I  am  kneeling  to  you, 
asking  you  to  forgive  me,  and  you  won't ! 
I  knelt  to  you  once  before — here  on  this  spot 
— and  you  were  cruel  to  me  then " 

"  Ah,  yes  !  " 

He  interrupted  her  ;  the  memory  of  his 
brutality  then — he  called  it  so — returned  to 
him  ;  his  words  came  hurriedly  : 

"  For  that  I  need  your  forgiveness ;  I 
ought  to  abjectly  apologise.  What  I  did, 
said,  then  was  wholly  under  a  misappre- 
hension  

She  seized  on  that :  it  gave  her  a  chance. 
Moreover,  it  was  now  or  never — so  she  thought. 
Metaphorically  she  set  her  teeth  and  said — 
Now.  Actually  she  whispered  : 

"  Isn't  it  possible  perhaps,  that  you  may 
be  under  a  misapprehension  now  ?  " 

She  boldly  raised  her  head  and  looked  him 
straight  in  the  face  as  she  spoke.  Tears  had 
not  in  the  least,  strange  to  say,  disfigured 
hers  ;  her  grief  had  not  been  that  kind  !  She 
continued : 

"  Don't  do  as  you  did  then  ;  don't  push  me 
away  from  you  !  " 

That  was  a  rubbing  of  it  in  with  a  ven- 
eeance.  Had  the  effect  of  making  him  speak 
with  a  strange  quiver  in  his  voice, 


OUR   SEAT  307 

"  Please — please  get  up  !  I  don't  like — 
I  can't  bear — to  see  you— 

Her  disobedience  was  of  the  studied  kind. 
She  got  so  close  to  him  that  he  felt  the 
warmth  of  her  body,  the  up-creep  of  her 
hands  on  his  breast,  the  sweet  warm  breath 
from  her  lips.  So  holding  him — holding  in 
every  sense  of  the  word — she  said  with  a 
spice  of  defiance  in  her  voice  : 

"  I  won't  get  up  till  you  tell  me  you  forgive 
me  everything  !  ': 

She  had  him  at  such  a  disadvantage ! 
It  was  really  grossly  unfair.  The  poor  wretch 
did  not  know  whether  he  was  on  his  head 
or  his  heels.  Then,  almost  before  he  knew 
what  he  was  doing,  his  arms  were  about  her  ; 
he  could  not  help  it.  He  gripped  her  to  him 
so  closely  that  she  could  have  cried  out—- 
but it  was  too  sweet  a  pain  to  ask  relief  from. 
'  Tell  me."  His  voice  was  raucous  in  its 
hoarseness.  '  You  do  not — do  not  belong 
to  Chantrelle  ?  " 

A  laugh  came  to  her  lips.  A  tinge  of 
jealousy  in  the  man  she  loves  pleases  a  woman, 
spices  things  as  it  were.  Besides,  looked  at 
from  the  right  view-point,  it  is  the  subtlest  of 
flattery. 

Hence  her  laughter. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

CHRISTMAS   EVE 

MRS. SETON  CARR  seemed  in  no  hurry 
to  withdraw  herself  from  the  author's 
tightly  clasping  arms.  Seriously,  it  was 
really  very  disgraceful  behaviour  of  hers. 
She  excused  herself  with  the  knowledge  that 
there  was  no  audience  :  save  the  moon  and 
the  sea.  After  subsidence  of  her  laugh  she 
said : 

"  I  have  said  good-bye  for  ever  to  the 
Chantrelles.  They  have  left  Ivy  Cottage. 
I  shall  never  see  them  again " 

"  I  thought " 

"  I  loved  him  ?  "  she  interrupted  gleefully. 
"  I  didn't— I  just  hated  him " 

"  Yet  you " 

"  Pretended  I  did  because  I  wanted  to 
annoy  you !  There !  I  wanted  to  annoy 
you  because — I  .  .  .  Don't,  Prince  Charlie  ! 
You're  making  me  look  so  untidy.  .  .  Yes  do 
— I  don't  mind  .  .  .  They'll  think  it  was  the 
wind." 


CHRISTMAS   EVE  309 

Thoughts  of  other  people  and  of  dinner 
came  to  them  at  last.  But  it  was  half-past 
seven  before  they  started  to  walk  back  home. 
What  they  said  during  all  the  time  they  were 
on  the  seat  is  a  matter  of  concern  to  them- 
selves only. 

Besides  which,  when  people  are  in  love, 
their  conversation  is  not  remarkable  for 
originality  and  general  interest.  Even  au- 
thors get  out  of  the  stirrups — off  their  high 
horse — and  talk  like  other  people. 

She  explained  to  him  that  she  had  loved 
him  from  the  first.  He,  wondering  how  he 
could  have  been  blind  to  the  fact,  hugged  her 
close  again.  Thereupon,  she  complained  that 
he  hurt  her,  and  then  contradicted  herself ; 
in  fact  behaved  like  a  true  woman. 

She  confessed  why  she  had  not  told  him 
she  was  Mrs.  Seton-Carr  at  first  :  because 
she  was  a  leader  of  London  fashion,  and  she 
knew  he  hated  London  Society  and  every- 
thing connected  therewith.  The  newspaper 
people  chronicled  her  movements  and  she 
was  much  talked  about ;  she  had  thought 
he  would  not  fail  to  recognize  her  name. 

But  she  need  not  have  feared  ;  he  would 
not  have  done  so.  Fashionable  Intelli- 
gence, and  all  columns  captioned  in  kindred 
fashion,  he  never  read.  Had  an  idea  of 
his  own  that  in  the  study  of  mankind  his 


3io  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

society  papers  were  not  very  suitable  text- 
books. 

It  would  naturally  be  supposed  that  seeing 
how  late  it  was  they  would  have  hurried 
home.  Not  they !  It  was  nearly  eight 
o'clock  when  they  reached  Ivy  Cottage. 
Dick  was  waiting  for  them. 

"  This  is  a  pretty  idea,  upon  my  soul !  " 
His  greeting.  "  A  nice  way  to  treat  your 
brother  !  Dinner  has  been  waiting  hours  !  " 

"  Never  mind,  Dick  dear,"  replied  his 
sister,  pecking  at  his  lips  as  she  removed  the 
pins  from  her  hat.  "  It  doesn't  matter,  it 
really  doesn't  matter  in  the  least." 

"  Doesn't  it !  It  matters  to  me !  Am 
I  supposed  to  be  a  fasting  man,  giving  a  sea- 
side exhibition  of  myself  ?  There's  been  no 
midday  meal,  because  I  had  to  bolt  whilst 
you  were  turning  people  out  of  the  house 
neck  and  crop.  I  did  think  I  was  going  to 
get  some  dinner  !  I  don't  even  get  an  apo- 
logy. You're  flouncing  around  grinning  all 
over  your  face  as  if  you'd  picked  up  six- 
pence. What  have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  There — sit  down — like  a  good  boy.  Here's 
the  soup  coming.  Now  start  and  try  to  make 
up  for  lost  time." 

She  ran  to  her  room  and  threw  off  her  hat 
and  mantle.  Laughed  at  her  reflection  in  the 
glass — a  laugh  inspired  by  sheer  happiness. 


CHRISTMAS    EVE  311 

Then  she  crept  softly  into  Oracle's  room  ;  the 
child  was  not  yet  asleep,  though  sleepy. 
Bending  over  the  cot  she  kissed  the  little 
rosy  face,  and  Gracie's  arms  went  up  and 
around  the  neck  of  her  Dear  Miss  Mivvins. 

Mrs.  Seton-Carr  had  not  been  away  from 
the  dining  room  more  than  two  minutes  ; 
when  she  returned  to  take  her  place  at  table 
mischievous  Dick  was  ready  waiting  for  her, 
said  : 

"  What  I  want  to  know  is,  what  the  deuce 
you  two  have  been  sitting  out  on  that  blessed 
seat  all  night  for  ?  Why  couldn't  you  come 
in  like  rational  beings  and  sit  in  chairs  and 
talk  ?  " 

"  Never  you  mind,  Dick ;  don't  ask 
questions.  Have  some  more  soup  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  can't  stop  my  mouth  with  soup  ! 
I  have  been  kept  without  food  for  so  long 
that  I'm  afraid  to  eat  much!  I  expect  it 
was  some  of  that  tommy-rot  Prince  Charlie 
was  always  flooding  my  ears  with.  About 
your  eyes  and  hair  and " 

"  Now,  Dick,"  interrupted  Masters,  "  drop 
that  please.  It  is  a  forbidden  subject." 

"  Is  it  ?  I  am  not  to  talk  about  what 
you  said  ? "  He  turned  to  his  sister  and 
continued  :  "What  have  you  had  to  say  then, 
Sis  ?  Been  telling  him  how  you  begged  and 
prayed  of  me  not  to  let  him " 


312  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

"  Dick  !  If  you  don't  be  quiet,  I'll  never 
forgive  you  !  " 

"  Now,  look  here."  Dick  assumed  an  ag- 
grieved tone.  "  Am  I  supposed  not  to  talk 
at  all  ?  Is  this  house  run  on  the  silent 
system  ?  I  might  just  as  well  be  having 
dinner  in  a  deaf  and  dumb  asylum." 

'  Talk  sensibly  then,"  said  his  sister  patron- 
isingly,  "  and  we'll  listen  to  you  with  plea- 


sure." 


'  We !  Oh,  it's  reached  that  stage,  has 
it :  plural !  'M  very  well.  Let's  take  up  a 
serious  subject :  horribly  serious.  Have  you 
lunatics  decided  when  your  two  throbbing 
hearts  are  going  to  be  merged  into  one ; 
when  you  are  to  be  married  ?  " 

"  Dick  !  Don't  you  want — let  me  pass 
you  some  more  vegetables  !  " 

"  Don't  stop  his  thirst  for  information," 
interposed  Masters  quietly.  "  He's  got  to 
be  best  man,  so  he  may  as  well  know.  It  is 
settled  that  we  are  to  be  married  by  special 
licence  on  New  Year's  Day." 

"  Oh,  Prince  Charlie  !  "  she  cried.  "  I 
never  said — indeed  I  didn't ' 

"  No,  dear,"  he  replied  calmly.  "  I  know 
you  did  not.  But  you  said  that  that 
woman  I  made  love  to  on  the  boat — what 
was  her  name  ? — Amy — pass  the  sauce, 
Dick — alleged  that  I  said  it  rested  with 


CHRISTMAS   EVE  313 

me,  so  far  as  the  naming  of  the  day  was 
concerned.'* 

"  How  can  you ' 

"  It  occurred  to  me  that  that  was  a  capital 
idea.  I  am  not  one  of  those  superior  persons  ; 
am  never  above  taking  a  hint.  I  know  I  have 
had — thanks  to  you — the  most  unhappy  end 
of  a  year.  By  way  of  compensation  I  am 
going — thanks  to  you  again — to  have  a  most 
happy  beginning  of  one." 

Dick  viewed  the  consternation  displayed 
on  his  sister's  face  to  the  accompaniment  of  a 
broad  grin  on  his  own,  said  : 

'  That's  right !  Start  quarrelling  now, 
even  before  you  are  tied  up !  Goodness 
knows  what  it  will  be  like  after,  when 
you  are  sentenced  to — I  mean  when  you 
are  linked  for  life.  Miserable  wretches ! 
You  have  my  sincerest  sympathy ;  all  my 
pity." 

"  It  takes  two  to  make  a  quarrel." 

Prince  Charlie  uttering  the  aphorism.  Then 
with  a  smile,  holding  out  his  hand  to  Mabel, 
he  continued  : 

"  You  agree  with  me,  don't  you,  darling  ? 
Just  by  your  action  convince  this  beardless 
youth  that  we  are  in  accord  about  the  first 
of  January — if  we  are  to  be  married  on  that 
day,  put  your  hand  in  mine." 

She    hesitated    a    moment,    perhaps    her 


314  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

brother's  derisive  laugh  helped  to  her  action  : 
she  put  it  right  there. 

"  There's  one  thing  about  this  affair — 
having  long  been  an  acute  sufferer  from  my 
headstrong  sister's  temper,"  said  Dick,  grin- 
ning all  over  his  face — "  about  which  I  am 
distinctly  displeased." 

"  You  are  going  to  make  one  of  your  ter- 
rible jokes,  Dick  !  "  she  said.  "  I  can  see  it 
in  your  face  !  " 

"  Oh,  let  him  run  loose,"  interposed  Mas- 
ters. "  It's  Christmas  time,  you  know. 
What's  the  joke  ?  If  it's  going  to  give  us 
pain,  out  with  it — as  the  boy  said  to  the 
dentist." 

"  If  you  labour  over  one  of  your  usual 
atrocious  puns,  Dick,"  warned  his  sister, 
"  I'll  throw  you  down  and  pummel  you  black 
and  blue  !  " 

"  I  was  merely  going  to  observe,"  said  her 
brother,  regardless  of  the  threat,  "  that  I  was 
glad  that  at  length  you  had  found  your 
master !  " 

He  had  to  howl  for  mercy  before  she  let 
him  go. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE   CHRISTMAS   BOX 

GRACIE  had  to  be  reckoned  with.  Prince 
Charlie  was  looked  on  as  her  exclusive 
property.  Considerable  diplomacy  and  tact 
would  have  to  be  brought  to  bear  ;  that 
exacting  atom  of  humanity  needed  careful 
handling. 

Uncle  Dick,  with  a  thoughtfulness  which 
earned  from  his  sister  and  prospective  brother- 
in-law  grateful  thanks,  went  out,  late  as  it 
was,  and  routed  round  the  few  shops  of  which 
Wivernsea  boasted.  The  shops  were  full 
of  people  and  empty  of  wares.  By  diligent 
search  he  ran  to  earth  in  a  grocer's  shop  a 
box  of  crackers,  packed  by  Tom  Smith,  as  he 
needed  to  find  it  packed  :  labelled  Panto- 
mime. He  thought  that  would  answer  the 
purpose  of  conciliating  his  niece. 

He  was  not  disappointed,    On  the  morrow, 


316  PRINCE    CHARLIE 

with  a  harlequin's  cap  and  mask,  a  wand, 
and  conjured  up  recollections  of  last  year's 
pantomime  all  went  well.  Promise  of  a  visit 
that  week  to  another  pantomime  completed 
the  matter.  There  was  no  breach. 

Grade  gave  up  all  rights  in  Prince  Charlie. 
Indeed,  viewed  his  changing  into  the  cha- 
racter of  a  new  papa  with  curious  equanimity. 
Curious,  that  is  to  say,  to  any  one  ignorant 
of  her  knowledge  of  the  doings  of  fairies. 
The  literature  upon  which  she  fed  was  of 
the  divided  syllable  type.  A  story  with- 
out a  fairy  in  it  was  beneath  her  con- 
tempt. 

So  it  was  that  on  Christmas  morning  she 
viewed  the  matter  complacently.  Having 
disposed  of  Prince  Charlie  to  her  mother, 
she  gave  him  Miss  Mivvins  as  a  Christmas 
box.  Borrowed  his  fountain  pen,  and  in  a 
large  round  hand  wrote  : 

"  With  best  wishes  for  a  Merry  Christmas 
and  a  Happy  New  Year'' 

Dancing  up  to,  and  putting  this  into  Miss 
Mivvins'  hand,  she  gracefully  led  that  lady 
to  her  former  prince;  was  rejoiced  when 
she  saw  how  glad  he  was  to  accept  her 
gift! 

And  the  wish  was  realized  too  :  their 
Christmas  was  of  the  merriest.  Gracie  said 
she  had  never  spent  so  happy  a  one  in  all  the 


THE    CHRISTMAS   BOX  317 

years  of  her  life  ;  was  of  opinion  that  the 
harlequin  had  been  at  work  with  Uncle 
Dick ;  he  was  so  different  from  what  he 
used  to  be. 

Uncle  Dick  was,  and  he  knew  it.  Looked 
back  at  his  past  with  eyes  full  of  horror, 
at  his  prospective  brother-in-law  with  love 
in  them,  because  he  felt,  knew,  to  whom  his 
reformation  was  due. 

Grade's  other  wish  was  granted  :  the  new 
year  was  a  happy  one.  It  commenced  with 
the  actual  transformation  of  Prince  Charlie 
into  Gracie's  new  papa.  The  child  said  she 
had  never  made  a  change  which  pleased  her 
so  much. 

As  Gracie  wisely  observed,  it  was  not  now 
a  matter  of  occasional  calls,  he  was  always 
there.  So  much  better,  wasn't  it  ?  She 
really  thought  they  had  all  been  quite  foolish 
not  to  think  of  arranging  it  so  before. 

As  to  Uncle  Dick — well,  as  Gracie  said, 
he  was  changed.  And  it  was  a  permanent 
change,  too ;  he  feared  no  relapse.  Just 
sometimes  the  memory  of  the  old  evil  times 
would  return,  and  a  suspicious  moisture  come 
into  his  eyes.  He  could  not  help  thinking  of 
what  might  have  been,  and  what  was. 
Thanked  God  from  his  heart  for  his  present 
condition. 

As  to  Miss  Mivvins — well,  of  course  she  no 


3i8  PRINCE   CHARLIE 

longer  exists.     She  merged  into  Mrs.  Masters 
on  the  first  day  of  the  new  year. 

Another  change  which  had  Grade's  full 
approval. 


THE  ENDJ 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FAOUTY 


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